Under the Five Moons
by Tazo
Summary: The daughter of a legend, the son of a preacher, a soldier, and an outlaw. Their destinies intertwine, opening old wounds and discovering new ones. Set 21 years after the end of the anime, don't read if you haven't seen all of the show. COMPLETE
1. Reunion

Guess what I don't I own? Yes, you in front. Trigun? Ding ding ding! That's correct!

Trigun and all of its characters are in fact © Yasuhiro Nightow and Young King Comics, with U.S. distribution rights by Pioneer Animation.

Now that I've protected myself from legal action…

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"Look sir, we can't get you your own cabin!"

"I'd like to know why the hell not? Don't I deserve a cabin considering all that I'm paying you?"

The ticket taker shook his head sadly. It had been a very long day, and this brown-haired man wasn't making her life any easier. "Sir, I'd like to remind you that most of that is the extra charge for your luggage."

"My luggage! C'mon man! They're the tools of my trade!" The man shot back.

"Well sir, that fact notwithstanding, it's still oversized, and therefore costs extra. The rest will buy you a general ticket and nothing more!" This seemed to make the man even angrier, he shoved his face so close to the clerks that the clerk could smell what the man had eaten for breakfast. "Listen bud, I deserve that. . ."

SMACK!

Unable to contain his rage any longer the clerk punched the man in the face, knocking him to the ground. The man groaned and stared up at burning suns. A shadow moved across the street and fell over him.

"You're an idiot Jeremiah," the shadow told him. The shadow's hand reached down to help him up. Jeremiah stood up, dusted himself off, and looked at the shadow, which had resolved itself into a tallish woman with blonde hair and a red jacket.

"Hi, Nikki," he said, "I just figured that. . ."

"Just figured nothing! The man's right! Why the hell do you have to lug that thing everywhere? Don't say defense, because you can just buy yourself a damn shotgun or something!"

Jeremiah straightened his tie and ran his hand through his hair. "Because, Nikki, it's a connection to my father, who, if you'll remember, I never met."

Nikki covered her eyes and shook her head. Same old Jeremiah, he hadn't changed at all since they were kids. "Alright, alright, I'll tell you what, if we both chip in we can afford a cabin together."

Jeremiah fell to his knees, grabbed Nikki's hand, and started kissing it, "Thank you, thank you, thank you Nikki! You're my savior!"

Nikki shook him off and wiped her hand on her jacket. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

* * *

Jeremiah's luggage was safely tucked in the cargo hold, he and Nikki lounged in their cabin, and the sand steamer sped on without incident. Jeremiah wondered how long it would last.

"I wonder how long this peace can last?"

Nikki looked up from where she was polishing her revolvers. "Now what do you mean by that? I'm not my father after all."

He raised his hands, "I know, I didn't mean anything." She raised her eyebrow and went back to polishing her revolvers.

Jeremiah stood up and stretched his stiff muscles. "I'm going for food, you want anything?"

Nikki didn't even look up from her gun. "Doughnuts," she said.

"Anything else?"

"Yes, more doughnuts."

Jeremiah strode out the door, shaking his head. "Why did I even bother to ask?"

* * *

Jeremiah sauntered up to the food counter, stopping to pet a black, green-eyed cat lying in the middle of the floor. To his surprise, nobody was manning the food counter. He peered over the counter and looked down. At the same time a server shot up from below the counter, her head connecting with Jeremiah's chin. The girl was saved by her goofy looking hat, but Jeremiah wasn't so lucky.

"Oh sir, I am so sorry, are you alright?"

Jeremiah lifted himself from the floor, rubbing his jaw. "Oh that's okay, I didn't need those teeth." He smiled crookedly at the server. His mother told him that it was his father's same crooked grin that had won her over. Unfortunately it didn't seem to work as well for the server. She cringed back from Jeremiah.

"Errrr, what can I get you sir?" she asked, putting on her fake "service" smile.

Jeremiah hung his head. "A hot dog and a box of doughnuts please."

She nodded, fake smile turned around fake smile, retrieved the hot dog and doughnuts fake smile, and placed them on the counter in front of Jeremiah fake smile. "That'll be 15$$ sir!" Jeremiah pulled out a couple of crumpled bills and slapped them on the counter.

"Have a nice day sir!" she called as he walked away.

"Too late for that," he muttered, rubbing his chin.

* * *

Jeremiah pushed the door open to find Nikki sleeping on the top bunk. Her short, blonde hair barely brushed the pillow as she snored softly.

"Hmm, what yummy doughnuts I have here! Too bad Nikki's asleep, 'cause I'm gonna eat them all on my own!" Jeremiah suddenly found himself on the floor of the cabin, clutching his hot dog. Nikki might have looked like her mother, but she moved like her father.

"Merhimahi Nee Volvoon, vu woa deef donuf waer rime," she said through a doughnut.

"What the hell did you just say?"

Nikki swallowed the doughnut she had in her mouth, "Jeremiah T. Wolfwood, you know damn well these doughnuts are mine."

Jeremiah stood up, "Hey, I bought 'em."

Nikki nodded, "True, but once they entered this room they became my personal property, and I can do whatever I wish with them. Consider it a trade for the money I put up for the sand steamer ride."

* * *

Out in the middle of the badlands, all is peaceful at night. There's very little sound as the creatures go about the business of surviving. The five moons hang over the deserts of Gunsmoke like guardians, watching over the animals, plants, and humans. The quiet of the badlands is among the more peaceful experiences one can have on this violent planet. The peace is almost Zen-like, if any of the inhabitants of Gunsmoke had any idea what the hell Zen was.

Unfortunately, it is this very silence that makes it easy to find sand steamers at night. In the deepest silence, a multi-ton machine barreling through the desert at high speeds attracts a lot of attention. Most of the time that attention is nothing more than simple curiosity. Occasionally that attention is much more sinister.

A pair of eyes looked up at the five moons they knew so well. Hmmm, five moons. The eyes had heard that this world had two suns. They wondered if it really had. It had been so long since the pair of eyes had seen a sun; they had forgotten what a sun looked like. A pair of ears attached to the same head the pair of eyes were in pricked up. The steamer was coming. A pair of hands pulled a watch out of a pocket and held in front of the pair of eyes. "Ten minutes late," the eyes said, "like it always is."

* * *

A couple of isles away, another pair of eyes was staring at a fire. These eyes, hidden behind a pair of blue reflective sunglasses, belonged to a young cavalryman named Lieutenant Evans Braxler. Lt. Evans was not having the best of days. He had been in the wilderness with no company besides his thomas for five days. During that time he had eaten nothing but random desert creatures. Tonight's hunt for random desert creatures to eat had turned up bare. To top it all off, he was down to his last cigar.

He scratched his goatee, wondering if he should have it now, or hold off and enjoy it when he can be sure of getting more. Patience and nicotine addiction fought, and nicotine addiction won. Evans lit the cigar in the campfire and took a big drag. "Ahhhhhh, definitely worth it," Evans said, "Stupid bounty assignments, what did I do to deserve 'em?" He took another drag on the cigar. "You had sex with the captain's daughter, that's what you did," he said, "What's the big deal? We're the same age, jeeze." He grinned ruefully. "Now that was definitely _not_ worth it."

* * *

Back inside the steamer, Jeremiah and Nikki were playing cards. Since they were both cheating, neither was winning. It was just as well, as neither had any money left.

* * *

Outside in the desert, a pair of eyes saw the steamer coming. A mouth under the eyes smiled pointedly. He signaled to his lackies to blow the charges. Money and blood. Tonight promised to be a good night…

* * *

Nikki: When people meet for the first time, they initially don't know what to think of each other. First impressions are very important, and the sad truth of it is that most people make their decisions about others within ten seconds of seeing them. Perhaps if people stopped and listened to others before they decide what they think about them, we'd all have more friends. Next Chapter: Fateful Meetings.


	2. Fateful Meetings

See previous chapter for disclaimer. I don't own Trigun, those people I mentioned before do.

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Inside the steamer, Jeremiah had finally gained an upper hand in the card game. The funny part was that he had done it without cheating. A quirk of fate had landed him with four kings. "Aha! Four of a kind"

Nikki slammed her cards down on the table. "You've been cheating all night! Of course you have four kings!'

"Oh come on! I didn't cheat this time, God just smiled upon me! Anyway, you've been cheating just as badly as I have!"

Nikki leaned back and crossed her arms. "How could you make such an accusation? I am a lady of breeding, and would never cheat!" She stuck her nose up in the air.

Jeremiah rested his head on his hand. " A lady of breeding eh? What kind of lady of breeding wanders around with two over-sized six shooters?" He said pointing to Nikki's revolvers. He continued, "What kind of lady of breeding has knives hidden under her jacket," gesturing to Nikki's red jacket. Nikki reached across the table to the deck. Jeremiah's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. "And what kind of lady," he said, "carries extra aces in her sleeve?" He reached into her sleeve and pulled out an ace of hearts.

Nikki chuckled. "The same kind as a gentleman who carries extra kings in his," she said. Her hand shot out and pulled a king of clubs out of Jeremiah's sleeve before he could react. The both grinned and each other as the sand steamer rolled on.

* * *

On the bridge of the steamer, the captain sucked at his coffee. "There is nothing on the planet," he said to no one, "like a good cup of coffee on a cold night." He sipped at his coffee again.

The helmsman smiled. "I'll agree with you on that one sir. Any chance of me getting one?"

The captain smiled into his coffee. "Helmsman, you may have a cup of coffee when your replacement comes and not a moment before. Coffee this good has to be earned." He took another sip of his coffee.

Noise erupted from the tube to the engine room. "Uhhh… Captain?"

The captain sighed. Couldn't these people just leave him to enjoy his coffee? "What is it engine room?"

"Well sir, the 3rd portside tank is reading kinda high. We're getting kinda worried own here…"

The helmsman raised a hand. "Sir, I got an idea" The captain nodded to him. "Move the pressure from the 3rd portside tank to the 5th starboard tank, then move some of the heavier luggage from the starboard hold to the port hold to compensate for the weight."

The captain shook his head; it was always kind of creepy the way the helmsman knew the ship so well. He relayed the instructions to the engine room and hung up the tube. He signaled to a crewman. "Get Helmsman Kaite some of this delectable coffee, he's earned it."

* * *

Out in the desert, all was calm. The only noise was the steamer as it chugged along on its journey. The passengers inside played cards, the crew drank their coffee, and one man out on an overlooking cliff enjoyed his cigar.

An explosion ripped through the night, spraying rubble in the steamer's path. Kaite threw himself on the wheel and the steamer swerved to the right. As the steamer swerved, Nikki and Jeremiah flew to the floor. About twenty yars away, Lt. Evans stood up and scanned the horizon for the source of the explosion. Right next to the steamer, the outlaws took advantage of the momentary slow down by scrambling up the steamer's various ledges and handholds. Their leader elected to simply leap up onto the deck. He pressed his face up to the window and tapped on the glass.

"Goin' my way?"

* * *

It took about five seconds after falling on the floor for Nikki and Jeremiah to react. Nikki ran to the door and Jeremiah bolted for the window. "Uh oh," he said.

Nikki turned around. "Badlads?" she asked.

"Well, somebody's climbing up here. Doesn't look like the Badlads, unless Brilliant Dynamites Neon ran out of florescent lights."

Nikki rolled her eyes, grabbed her revolvers, and snapped them open. "I don't suppose," she said as she loaded them, "that I could have one peaceful day with an old friend?"

Jeremiah grinned and shook his head. "Told you so," he said.

Nikki snapped the revolver shut and tossed it to Jeremiah, it's red surface barely reflecting the faint, artificial light. She opened the green one and shoved some bullets in. "I know, I know. I appear to have inherited my father's trouble magnet." She snapped the revolver shut with a decisive click.

There was a pounding at the door. "Open up, the boss wants to see y'all!" Nikki and Jeremiah glanced towards each other.

"Window?"

"Window."

* * *

On a short cliff overlooking the sand steamer, Lt. Evans stared at the takeover. He backed away from the cliff and turned to his thomas. "Well," he said to his thomas, "It's only a couple of yars down, right? If I time right, I shouldn't break. . . too many bones." He shook his head, "I've been out here too long if I'm talking to you."

He sprinted towards the cliff's edge as the steamer barreled towards him. "I MUST BE INSANE!" he yelled as leapt over the edge.

He was about halfway through the jump when he realized that he had undershot the mark. "Ohhhhhhhh shiiiiiiiiiiiitttttttt!" He slammed into the side of the steamer as it slowly accelerated. He scrambled to find a hold, but his grasping hands could find no purchase. Grimacing, he felt himself slowly sliding down the steamer, and admitted to himself that this was probably a pretty stupid idea.

Just before he fell off, a black-gloved hand swung around to catch him by the arm. Evans looked up at his savior. She was tallish, with blonde hair cut short for practicality's sake. Here blue-green eyes tried showed a combination of worry and annoyance. The left side of her long jacket bulged outwards, more than likely hiding a revolver in a shoulder holster. The maleness in Evans realized two things. The first was that she was very pretty. The second was that if he moved just right, he could probably see up her dress. Fortunately, the brain realized that this would probably get them killed and overrode the testosterone influence.

Jeremiah, standing on the ledge that Nikki was hanging from, saw that the situation would result in a very painful death for the both of them. The guy Nikki just caught was way too heavy; she would never be able to hold on with just one arm. Suffering from a great desire not to see his friend fall to a painful death, he leaned over and pulled them in both. All three collapsed against the steamer walls. Evans turned to Nikki and tipped his hat. "Ma'm".

Nikki slapped him in the face. "What the hell were you thinking? You could have killed yourself!"

"I dunno," Evans said, "seemed like a good idea at the time." He shrugged. "Hell, what else was I gonna do? Just wait around while they hijacked a sand steamer?"

Jeremiah breathed in heavily. "Don't be so hard on the guy Nikki, you know damn well we both would've done the same thing in his situation."

Nikki opened her mouth to say something, but when faced with Jeremiah's analyzing stare, she couldn't bring herself to lie. Instead, she turned to the crazy jumper and stretched out her hand. "Nikki Stryfe, at your service." Evans shook it. Jeremiah reached out his own hand. "Jeremiah T. Wolfwood, pleased to meetcha," he said.

Evans looked at his other rescuer. This guy was damn tall, with sandy brown hair sticking out at angles. His carefree grin was off set by a pair of intense blue eyes that seemed to stare straight threw yours and right into the back of your mind. His blue suit was in desperate need of cleaning, though his tie was surprisingly straight.

Evans slumped back against the wall. "I'm Lieutenant Evans Braxler of 14th Calvary," he said, "You two armed?" Nikki drew the green revolver from her shoulder holster. Jeremiah raised the red one. "I've got this," he said, "but I'd be better off if can get to the cargo hold. That's where my gun is."

A speaker beside the started to crackle as it came to life. Then a voice came out of it. It was a voice to slither and slime it's way into your very soul. It was a horrible, evil, untrustworthy voice that would promise you everything than take everything the moment you turned your back. It wasn't the voice of the devil, but it came damn close.

* * *

"Greetings all passengers aboard this fine sand steamer. A special greeting to the worms clinging to the side, don't think I don't know you're there. Now, I am here to assure you that about 95% are going to live through the night. The rest of you will not be as lucky. Just as a piece of advice, a great way to add yourself to the 5% is to show an unreasonable attachment to your personal possessions. Thank you, good night, and be sure to tip the food girls, they do work so hard." A hand set the tube back in its place. The hand, they eyes, and the voice all belonged to a pale man with dark hair and hungry green eyes. He had taken off his brown coat and now sat languidly on the console.

In fact, Kaite noticed, in almost the exact same position Brilliant Dynamites Neon had occupied twenty-two years ago. Kaite couldn't take it much longer; the irony was too much for him. "Look who the hell are you anyway? I'd just like to know the name of the psycho holding us hostage!" he yelled. The captain flinched; the helmsman might have just added them all to the 5% list. The man seemed completely unconcerned by Kaite's outburst. He reached out to pet the same black cat Jeremiah had encountered earlier. The cat hissed and backed away. The man raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

He grabbed the speaking tube from its resting place. "Please forgive my lack of manners, I forgot to introduce myself," he said. He grinned, revealing two very sharp fangs. "I am the twenty-first Gung-Ho Gun, Martinez the Bloodsucker."

* * *

"Twenty-first?" Nikki said.

"Gung-Ho Gun?" Jeremiah said. They both looked at each other, remembering a day five years ago. It was the last time they had both seen Nikki's father. He had told them a story then, a story about him, Jeremiah's father, their mothers, Nikki's uncle, and a group of people known as the Gung-Ho Guns.

"Well, any ideas anyone?" Evans asked, breaking into their remembrance. "I mean; we're certainly not going to retake the steamer with your revolvers, my service pistol and saber, are we?"

Jeremiah shook his had as if to clear of the thought of Nikki's father. "If we can get to the cargo hold and get my luggage, the odds will tip back into our favor," he said.

"You must be packin' some heat there buddy," Evans returned.

Jeremiah grinned and nodded. "You don't know the half of it, my thomas riding friend." He stood up and looked around for an entrance back into the steamer. He pointed at a window. "If we go through that window we should be able to sneak to the cargo hold with little trouble." Evans stood up. "Works for me," he said.

Nikki stood and swung herself up onto a ladder. "You two go down and get Jeremiah's luggage, I'll get a closer look at what's going on in the bridge. I wanna see this 'Bloodsucker' for myself."

"Alright, don't get yourself killed Nikki."

"Do I ever?"

* * *

Jeremiah: Everyone has faith in something. Even if it's faith in the idea that there is nothing to have faith in, we all believe in something. The creatures of the night are rumored to fear holy objects, but the question is why? Some believe that they cannot stand to be near a symbol of an enemy, but I feel differently. I believe that when you have been in the night long enough, faithless and friendless, the reminders of your old ways frighten you. This fear of the old ways then becomes so hard set that the creatures develop a literal allergy to them. Now it burns to the touch, those old ways. Next Chapter: Faithless Monster


	3. Soulless Monster

I don't own Trigun or any of its characters; I only own my characters. And my characters are mine; you can't have them! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

SMACK!

Thanks, I'm fine now.

Just for the record, the port means left and starboard means right. I use words like port and starboard because it makes it seem like I did more research than I really did.

* * *

Deep in the bowels of the sand steamer, Evans and Jeremiah looked in vain for Jeremiah's luggage. Evans ran a hand through his green hair. "Are you sure you didn't miss it or something?"

Jeremiah turned on him. "It's a six foot high metal cross, they're pretty Goddamn hard to miss!" he yelled. He clenched and opened his fists reflexively.

Evans, seeing that Jeremiah was a second away from tearing up someone's luggage in anger, decided that diplomacy was called for. "Look, are you sure it's in the starboard hold? Maybe they moved it to the port side?"

His comment to seemed to defuse Jeremiah somewhat. He nodded, threw down the bag he was holding, and strode out the door. Evans followed him down the corridor. He stopped at the intersection as a smell wafted past his nose. "You think you can handle getting there on your own?"

Jeremiah stopped. "Yeah, no problem, but why?" he asked.

Evans started walking down the other corridor. "I'm gonna get something to eat."

Jeremiah grabbed him by the arm. Evans turned around into Jeremiah's incredulous stare. "You're eating… at a time like this?" he asked.

Evans shrugged. "I've been out in the desert for the five days with nothing to eat except lizards and small rodents. I'm getting me a hot dog or two. Grab your cross or whatever and meet me at the food counter." He put his hands in his pockets and walked away.

Jeremiah shook his head. "Hey! Save me a burger or something!"

Evans saluted. "Will do."

* * *

On the bridge, Martinez looked over passengers and crew as a gourmet looks over a buffet. He dismissed one as too thin, another as too sickly, and yet another as too sweet. Kaite noticed that every time he looked over a child, he stopped and debated with himself. He seemed to almost lose control at one little girl. She was a pretty thing, barely five. When the black cat had run from Martinez, she had caught it and comforted it. "I could, but they say too many sweets are bad for you. It's so tempting though. No, I can wait for dessert."

Kaite couldn't take it. This guy made B.D.N. look like a saint. Not here, not now, not on his father's ship. He threw himself at Martinez. "You want a meal? Take me! I bet I taste way better than them! Look at them, they're almost rancid!"

Martinez looked over at the henchman driving the steamer. "Are you going to need any help driving that thing?" The henchman shook his head. "Good," Martinez said, "because I just found my appetizer." He picked up Kaite and threw him against the wall. He grinned, showing his fangs. He advanced slowly towards Kaite. "You know, I really like this. The blood of a 'hero', nothing better for an appetizer. I wasn't expecting anyone on this steamer to be this brave."

The situation would have made Kaite laugh in another time. The only difference between now and then was that there was no Vash the Stampede to save him. Then Kaite looked past Martinez and to the window. A blonde haired girl in a red jacket was hanging upside down in front of the window. In her hands she clutched a long green six-shooter, just like the one Vash had so many years ago. She took aim above Martinez's shoulder, but just as she fired, the steamer hit a bump. The girl managed to keep from failing, but her shot flew wild and smacked right into Martinez's head. His body flew forward into Katie.

The girl swung herself into the bridge. Her face had gone white and her hands were shaking. "I… I didn't mean to kill him. Look at him, his head's like gone."

Suddenly, Martinez's hands twitched. They placed themselves on the floor and pushed his body up. Martinez turned around and cracked his neck. Kaite watched with disgust as Martinez reached around and pulled out the bullet. "You know, that really hurt."

* * *

Evans had found the food area to be a little crowded. He knocked out one guard and was just about to look for food when the guard's friends came back. Evans dived behind the counter and pulled out his service revolver. He glanced to the left and saw that the soft pretzel machine was still working. He reached in and grabbed one. The guards started spraying the found counter. Evans waited for a pause sprang up and took a couple of shoots. He ducked back down and took a couple bites of the pretzel. Damn, that tasted good. He rose again and squeezed off another couple of shots. He got lucky and caught one in the arm. "One down, four to go. Damn it! This revolver's still off! Why can't they just fight me like men?"

Suddenly there were eight louder shots, followed by four groans. Then a strange absence of gunfire. Evans slowly peeked over the counter, the pretzel stuffed in his mouth. The four other guards lay on the floor nursing shoulder wounds. Jeremiah stood among them, holding a gigantic metal cross by a skull grip in its center. The short and long ends opened up to reveal muzzles; the short end's was particularly large. On the right arm a series of switches ran up to the end. Evans stood up and inspected the cross and Jeremiah's skinny frame. He took the pretzel out of his mouth. "You're stronger than you look."

Jeremiah smiled. "Good genes," he responded. Evans nodded.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the guard he knocked out had come to. The guard raised his pistol and fired.

Quick as a hurricane gale, Evans pulled out his saber and threw between Jeremiah and the guard. There was a loud _clang_ as Evans caught the bullet on his saber. He hit the ground rolling, stood up and rushed the guard, clouting him over the head with his saber. All this occurred before Jeremiah could turn around and draw a bead on the guard.

Jeremiah raised an eyebrow. "You're pretty good with that amigo," he said.

Evans spun the saber and slid it into its sheath. "Good genes."

* * *

Martinez tossed the bullet up into the air and caught it as it came back down. "Hmmm, another hero. This steamer seems full of them. Let me guess, you one of those clingers from earlier?"

Now that she was sure that she hadn't killed him, Nikki had regained her composure. The fact that he had survived a bullet to the brain seemed somewhat irrelevant to her. Grimacing, she pulled back the hammer on her revolver. She aimed it at Martinez. "Now that I know I can't kill you with bullets, it all becomes a lot easier," she said.

Martinez advanced a little. "Oh yeah? What are you going to do, little missie?" he said.

"Shoot you until you stop moving, what else?"

Martinez showed his teeth and dashed forward faster than most of the people on the bridge could see. His nails elongated into talons in mid-dash. Nikki threw herself to the side and fired the full clip at Martinez. When she landed, she felt a mild pain in her side. She found that hadn't moved quite fast enough, three short cuts lined her side.

Martinez ignored the holes and stared at Nikki. "You're good, you're very good. I've only met two people fast enough to dodge me. You're the third." He looked at the red stains on his claws. "Let's see what kind of blood runs through your veins."

He licked his ring finger. "Hmmm…" He licked his middle finger. "That's very interesting." He licked his index finger. "Tell me, little girl, what's your name."

Nikki slotted a cartridge into the gun and snapped it shut. "Call me 'little girl' again and I'll reconsider my no kill policy. And for what it's worth, my name's Nikki Stryfe." She could hear automatic gunfire faintly echoing down the corridor, but Martinez was too lost in licking every last drop of blood off his claws to notice anything.

Martinez giggled. "I wonder how master will react? This is certainly an unexpected development." He turned towards Nikki. "In fact, I'd better take you with me just in case." He motioned to his henchmen. "Take her."

But his men were nowhere to be found. Martinez looked around and his gaze fell upon Evans, who had appeared while Martinez was lost in the blood. Evans was wiping some blood off of his saber with the shirt of an unconscious man. "I warned him, but noooo. . . He had to charge me." He leaned down and patted one of the men. "Don't worry fella. You'll live."

Martinez looked at Evans quizzically, then charged. Evans turned and held his saber, ready to fight. Before Martinez could make to him, Jeremiah stepped out of the corridor with his cross. Martinez looked at it and stopped dead in his tracks. He hissed, averted his eyes, and backed away towards a window.

He screamed, "You've won this time!" and threw himself out the window and into the night. Evans ran to the window and looked back and Martinez's retreating form. "What the Hell was that?" he asked.

Kaite struggled to his feet and limped towards the wheel, still controlled by a very frightened henchman. He stopped when he reached Jeremiah, noticing the revolver Jeremiah had in his belt. "Can I borrow that?" Jeremiah took out the gun and handed it to Kaite. Kaite finished his journey to the well and slammed the butt of the revolver over the man's head. "That's my seat, bitch!" He pushed the man's body off the seat and took his accustomed place.

The captain walked over to Kaite's side. "Get us back on course, helmsman." Kaite nodded and spun the wheel to the right, setting the sand steamer back on course to Septombre city. The captain pointed to the henchmen. "Security, fix these hooligans up and take them somewhere where they can't cause too much trouble. Everyone else, back to your posts. Well? Why are you standing here looking at me? Go! Go!" He turned back and placed his hand on the back of Kaite's chair. "Feeling better, helmsman?" he asked.

Kaite glanced down at the unconscious body of Martinez's pilot. "Much," he answered.

* * *

Out in a small town in the desert, there is a church. It's not much of a church, it's kind of small and ugly looking and there are bloodstains on the floor. There's a small graveyard in the back of the church. Also pretty unassuming, the graveyard smells of wet earth after a days rain. The only feature worth noting is a giant metal cross with a grip in the centerpiece. The cross stands over a simple grave marked "Nicholas D. Wolfwood".

It was in this unimpressive cemetery, over this grave on a dark night that two men and one Plant stood. One of the men was hunched over and indistinguishable under his hooded robe. From the right sleeve of his robe a claw emerged, clutching a walking stick. The other man stood straight and tall, with long blue hair covering half his face. Only one eye was visible, but this eye was enough to send chills down even Martinez's spine. It was golden yellow, and unmistakably belonged to killer. The owner of this eye would kill you in the middle of dessert and go back to eating his cheesecake without dropping his fork.

The old man turned to the Plant. When he spoke, his gravely voice cut through the night like a dull machete through bread. "So you don't want me to give this guy the same treatment I gave Legato here, right Master?"

The Plant nodded. The man identified as Legato turned to the old man. His calm voice smoothed over all the wrinkles the old man's voice had made in the air. "Master Knives wants you to bring him to life and restore his strength, but do not restore his age or his free will."

The old man shook his head. "That's a tall order. You know how hard it is to keep the free will from entering the body? Especially once you've restored it's strength."

Knives wheeled on the old man. He grabbed the old man's cowl and lifted him into the air "Listen to me Julius, you accursed spider. I don't care how hard it is, I don't care what it takes, just do it! This man betrayed me, he betrayed me to my brother. Death is too good for him. Besides, making my brother kill him will cause Vash more pain than he's ever experienced. Just the punishment for my brother. He betrayed me too you know."

Julius bowed his head. "Of course Master Knives."

Knives dropped him and motioned to Legato. "Come Legato, we're leaving." They pair retreated into the darkness.

Julius shook his head and turned to the grave. He raised the walking stick and started moving it in slow circles around the grave. A low chanting emerged from the man's hood. He started to hop and dance around the grave as the chanting grew louder and louder. As his dancing grew more frenzied, other voices joined in. Bizarre voices from somewhere else, somewhere not entirely holy.

As the chanting reached a crescendo, the grave started to rumble. The dirt under the cross moved, and a hand burst through the soil. It clawed for purchase on the dirt and found it. The hand was followed by its twin, and together they pulled a body out of the grave. The man stood in the shadow of the cross, but his eyes were blank.

Julius raised an eyebrow. "Well well well, this is a strong soul if I ever saw one. I'm sorry my friend, but all you can do is watch."

A tall shadow emerged from the church. It turned to the graveyard. After pausing, it ran towards the graveyard. "Hey what are you doing! Get away from that grave!"

Julius looked at the shadow. "Oh shit," he said. The shadow looked suspiciously like the master, and Julius knew what that meant. He looked at was once a corpse. Goddamnit. While he was distracted with the Master's brother, the corpse's free will had asserted itself. Now there was no way to get rid of it. The Master was going to kill him. "Damn you, Vash the Stampede!" he yelled. He turned and ran from the graveyard into the desert. "Damn you to Hell!"

Vash ran through the graveyard and was about to chase after him when he heard a faint whisper from the corpse. "Hey. . . Needle noggin. . . got any cigs? I'm dying for a smoke."

Vash turned to the corpse, now a walking man. When he saw the man's face, he jumped back in surprise. He leaned on the cross, doubting his legs ability to support him. When he finally found his voice he said, "Holy shit! It's you!"

* * *

Evans: Orders, orders, life is full of orders. Some make sense to the one who carries them out. Others must be followed without question. Sometimes we are given orders we know we must ignore. Either the orders are themselves morally wrong, or there is a more appropriate path open. But whichever type the order that must be ignored is, you must always be read to deal with the consequences of disobeying that order.

Next Chapter: Defying Rules.


	4. Defying Rules

Me no own Trigun. You own Trigun? You no own Trigun either? Hmm, we know who Trigun! See first chapter if you no know who own Trigun.

* * *

The sand steamer slowed to halt in front of Septombre city. Inside, Evans was enjoying a cigar in the first class cabin the captain had given him in thanks for helping to save the ship. He inhaled deeply. The nice thing about cigars was that you didn't need as many of them. Somewhere in the city, a bomb went off, leveling a building. The explosion rocked the steamer, and Evans fell to the floor. He propped himself up on his hands and chewed on his cigar. "I do believe that's my bounty."

* * *

Nikki shouldered her bag and stepped down from the ramp. She pushed her small-lensed sunglasses up her nose. Funny how no matter how long people lived on this planet, they never got used to the two suns. Whatever, it kept the sunglasses industry in business at least.

She stared at the plume of smoke rising from the explosion. She wondered if the woman she was looking for caused it. The woman who might lead her to her father.

Jeremiah stepped down beside her, his cross now covered in hard cloth and wrapped in leather straps. "You here for her too?"

Nikki turned to him, "You heard about it too?"

Jeremiah grinned, "How could I not? It's almost all people talk about these days. Actually when I first heard about it, I thought it my really be you."

Nikki cocked her head to the side. "Why would you think that? I'm not the destructive type."

Jeremiah shrugged. He really could be as gullible as his mother sometimes.

Cigar smoked wafted down the gangway as Evans disembarked. He waved to Nikki and Jeremiah. "Hey guys."

Jeremiah waved back. "Where you off to, Cavalryman?"

Evans pointed towards the rising smoke plume.

Nikki raised her eyebrows. "Your heading towards the explosion. . ."

_BOOM!_

". . .s? Doesn't that seem a little counter intuitive?" she asked.

"Not for me, I gotta catch Calamity Clarissa Shriver, daughter of Vash the Stampede, or at least, so she claims," he said.

Jeremiah scratched his head. "You sure it's her?"

"Who else would be causing such large explosions in Septombre city?" he responded. He took his spent cigar out his mouth and dropped it on the road, crushing it under his boot. He walked off down the street, whistling.

Nikki looked towards Jeremiah. "Should we follow him?"

Jeremiah shook his head. "I dunno, I kinda want to look into this whole Gung-Ho Gun thing. You heard that freak back on the train. Maybe your uncle. . ."

Nikki slapped her hand over his mouth. "Don't ever call him my uncle, ever. He's a psychopathic killer who wants to wipe at all humans, including you and me."

Jeremiah moved her hand from his mouth. "Technically, you're not human."

She slapped him in the face, leaving a red hand imprint on his cheek.

Jeremiah arched his eyebrows. "You know something Nikki? I am getting tired of your denial. I understood it when you first learned, it's not something easily faced. But, Goddamnit! you're going to have to face up to it sooner or later! The fact of the matter is…"

_BOOM!_

Jeremiah looked at the new plume of smoke rising from the ruined buildings. "We should probably go after Evans, shouldn't we?"

Nikki nodded. "Couldn't agree more."

* * *

Near the bank, a red-haired woman stood, flipping a detonator in her left hand. It wasn't the only one she had; her open green coat was covered in pouches, bulging with all sorts of fun and chaotic devices. She tossed the detonator into the air and caught it. She was getting pretty impatient. "Hurry it up boys! I got better things to do than wait for your sorry asses!" Inside the bank her flunkies were emptying the vault as fast as they could.

All the other buildings around the bank had boarded up their windows, locked their doors, and thrown up barricades. Their residents had taken up their guns, kneeling behind desks, crouched under tables, anywhere they could find. Who knows what horror this woman could unleash. The daughter of the Humanoid Typhoon himself, what could she do?

For a while, no sound could be heard on the dusty streets save for the redhead flipping the detonator and a black cat's meow. Then a low whistle slid its way into the silence, breaking it without it even noticing. The whistle stopped and was replaced by humming. The townspeople couldn't believe what they were hearing. What moron would be walking the streets with that woman out there? Moreover, what moron would draw attention to him by whistling or humming?

"Soooo, on the second night the children of the pebble hold hands and sketch a jig. No wait, those aren't the words."

The redhead looked up. Who the hell was this guy? A Cavalryman? What sort of idiot Cavalryman would walk up to her alone.

Evans stopped in his track, his hands still in his pockets. He looked up at her. "I can't remember, what's the second verse again?"

The woman snapped her fingers. One of her flunkies stepped up to him. "You know, you really shouldn't be bothering Miss Calamity right. . ."

Evans whirled around, reached up, and broke the man's nose. He shoved his fist into the man's solar plexus. He stood back as the man crumpled to the street. A relatively clever flunky thought that he might get the drop on this suicidal Cavalryman. All he got for his trouble was Evans' gloved fist entering his teeth. Evans looked up at Calamity and grinned. "So much for that."

Calamity dropped her detonator and reached for a pouch on her coat. Before she could reach it, she felt Evans' steel kiss on her throat. "You wouldn't want to do that now, would you?"

Calamity growled, she slid her foot under her dropped detonator and flipped it up to her hand. She flipped over the cover and placed her thumb firmly on the button. "Back off, or I blow one of those pleasant little houses straight to hell!"

Evans shrugged. "Alright, go ahead, I'm not stopping you."

Calamity started to turn her head, but stopped when she realized that this would probably kill her. "Wha? You're willing to let these innocents die? I thought you were a Cavalryman?"

"I am, I'm just not a very good one." He pressed the saber a little closer to her throat. "I'm sure you've got explosives wired all over the place. It'd be just like you. C'mon, blow them up, I really don't care."

Calamity started quavering. Her thumb drew closer to the button. The sweat beaded down her forehead. Her palms started to grow very slippery. She sighed and dropped the detonator. Evans removed his saber and sheathed it. He brought some rope from his officer's coat and tied her hands together. Once he was sure that she wouldn't have the dexterity to open any of her coat pouches, he sighed and leaned against her shoulder. "Thank God, for a second I thought you were actually going to blow it."

"What! I thought you didn't care?"

"Oh come on! What kind of monster could not care about innocents burning?"

Calamity glared at him. "How could you be sure that I wouldn't blow them all to the afterlife?"

"I looked over your record before the Cavalry sent me out here. You've never killed anyone, even when it meant dropping the loot, or even spending jail time. I knew it was a long shot."

"And if I had blown them up?"

"I dunno. I don't if I could have lived with myself. Could you have lived with the knowledge that you killed them?"

Their conversation was interrupted by the return of the rest of Calamity's flunkies. "Miss Calamity? What's going on?"

One flunky stepped forward. He was about seven feet tall, and looked like he would've been the leader of the bunch before Miss Shriver had come along. He drew his gun. "Gentlemen, a great opportunity has been laid out before us. I suggest we take it." He pointed gun at Calamity and Evans. The rest of the men, sensing a change in the wind, followed suit.

Calamity hung her head. "Great work, mister Cavalryman. Now what?"

Evans laughed nervously. "You know, that's a good question." He pushed his sunglasses up his nose.

_BANG! BANG! BANG! _

Six bullets flew through the air, but only three shots could be heard, so fast was the trigger pulled. Nikki stood, arm outstretched, the red revolver clutched in her hand. Jeremiah stood a few steps behind her, his cross standing upright in the sand in front of him. Evans looked back at the would-be mutineers; they were all kneeling on the street, clutching their stinging hands.

"Ummm, thanks?"

* * *

Jeremiah tossed back his drink. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and looked up at Evans. "So now what are you going to do?"

It was an hour later in the local bar. The townspeople weren't quite as generous as the steamer crew, but they had offered to buy drinks.

Evans sipped at his beer. "I figure I can catch a ride back to the Calvary headquarters on that sand steamer we saved. That guy Kaite told me he could get me a ride if I ever needed one. Then I can too over Miss "the Stampede" over to them. Then maybe, just maybe, they'll put me back in field duty and I'll get off of these bounty assignments."

They hadn't found a good place to put Calamity while they drank, so they just bound her arm and stuck her on the barstool next to her. "You don't believe I'm the daughter of Vash the Stampede, do you?"

Evans chuckled. "Nope," he said, as he took a drink.

"I am the daughter of Vash the Stampede!" She perked up as an idea came to her. "In, in fact, I can lead you to him!"

Evans placed his beer on the bar and stared at Calamity. "You can lead me to the Humanoid Typhoon? The Sixty Billion Double Dollar Man?"

Calamity nodded her head vigorously.

"No thanks lady. Even if you could bring me to Vash the Stampede, which I doubt, I don't rate my chances too well against him."

"Oh come on, don't tell me the Sixty Billion Double Dollars doesn't appeal to you?"

"I was sent out to bring you in, and I'm bringing you in."

"Excuse me, but do you really know where Vash the Stampede is?" Nikki leaned over Jeremiah and entered the conversation.

Calamity nodded her head. "Yes, yes I do. I really don't care what you do to him, but I can bring you to him if you want! Just get me loose!"

Nikki turned to Evans and looked at him pleadingly.

Evans scowled. "You can't seriously be asking me to let her go, can you?"

Nikki smiled. "Please?"

"NO! I'm not letting her go for anything. Anyway, why do you want Vash? The truth of the matter is that nobody can pay the bounty on him."

Nikki shook her head. "It's not about money."

"Is it revenge? Did he kill your family or something? Revenge doesn't help. It just makes the pain worse."

Nikki shook her head. "It's not about revenge."

Evans slammed his glass down on the bar. "Then what? Why are you chasing after the only living natural disaster?"

Nikki didn't respond, she just sipped at her beer. Jeremiah signaled for a refill. "C'mon man, we saved your life. Well, technically she saved your life."

Evans stared at the bar for a long time. He picked up his beer and sipped at it. "Ah hell!" He drew his saber and slashed at Calamity. Her ropes fell away to the floor. "Field duty's too damn boring anyway." He grabbed his beer and downed it in one gulp. He slammed on his beer on the bar.

Jeremiah raised his refreshed beer in toast. "Good man!"

Evans nodded. "Very good. When should we leave?"

Calamity signaled to the barman for a drink. "If my opinion counts for anything at all, we should leave tomorrow."

Evans smacked her on the back of the head. "Who said you opinion did count for anything?"

Calamity smacked him back. "Well, seeing as how I'm the only one who knows where we're going, I think it should."

While Evans and Calamity were arguing, two voices floated into the bar.

"We can't really tell them that we can't help them."

"Well, we do have a policy. Vash the Stampede, we've made it clear that we can't help them in his case."

"But it isn't Mr. Vash that did this. It's someone who claims to be his daughter."

"Well, how do we know she isn't his daughter?"

"Oh come on, Meryl! We both know she wouldn't do this!"

"Well, how do we know he doesn't have another daughter?"

"Meryl! I can't believe you said that! Don't you trust him?"

"_Sigh_. I do trust him, I was just trying to think of a way we could follow the bosses orders. I do want to help these people."

The color drained from Nikki and Jeremiah's faces. As one, they turned to Evans and Calamity.

Nikki grabbed Evans arm. "I think we should leave now."

Evans raised his eyebrows. "What, like today?"

Jeremiah put his beer down and grabbed his cross. "No, like now. As in immediately. Out the back door if at all possible."

"Look, I'd rather not agree with the outlaw, but I'm thinking we should wait until morning," Evans said. Calamity nodded in agreement.

The voices grew louder as their owners entered the bar. Nikki was about to respond when the voices cut her off in unison.

"NIKKI SAVEREM STRYFE!"

"JEREMIAH THOMAS WOLFWOOD!"

Nikki and Jeremiah chuckled nervously, then spoke as one. "Hi mom."

* * *

Vash: Whenever someone takes leave, he is always surprised by the way things have changed when he returns. The longer he was away, the greater his shock and amazement.

If that person has been away for a particularly long while, some things may have changed that he isn't ready to accept. If a man has taken leave of the world for twenty-one years, what must he feel like when he unexpectedly comes back? Next Chapter: Twenty-One years gone.


	5. Twenty One Years Gone

I don't own Trigun. It would be cool if I did. If I did I would have more money. Which would be cool. If you want to know who owns Trigun, check the first chapter. It's all written there.

* * *

Vash raced through the city streets. There had to be a store that open somewhere around here. He had gotten Wolfwood up to his hotel room, but the poor guy was shaky as hell. Oh, who was he kidding? Vash held out his arm. He had the worst case of the shakes he had ever had in his long life. "Please God, don't let me have to shoot tonight!" he thought silently to himself.

He heard a faint meow. He looked to the right and saw a black cat sitting in a store window. The sign overhead read "Gunsmoke Male". The shopkeeper was just closing up. "Yesss!" Vash thought. "Hey mister! Wait up!" he yelled.

* * *

Back in the hotel room, Wolfwood sat on the bed, rocking back and forth, his face in his hands. What the name of the Lord was going on? He got up and staggered towards the bathroom. He looked at the face in the mirror. That wasn't his face. Oh sure, it looked like his face, but it couldn't be his. He didn't have that much gray hair, or wrinkles for that matter.

He staggered back to the bed and sat down. Wolfwood was technically a priest, but he didn't consider himself a very good one. To his recollection, he had only been to confession once, right before he... died? Still, he found himself praying. "Please Lord, I don't want to be alone right now."

Evidently, God had heard him. Vash burst through the door with a bundle under his arm. "Here I got you some clothes. You like black right?" He tossed the package to Wolfwood, who caught it reflexively. He rummaged around for a second, then pulled out a black collar, stiff with starch.

He held it up and looked at Vash quizzically. "An' this is?"

Vash giggled nervously. "Impulse buy, couldn't help myself." Wolfwood shook his head and started to pull on the clothes.

As Wolfwood buttoned the collar, Vash patted his pockets. "I got something else for you." He reached into a pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "The shopkeeper who sold them to me told me that 'They're nothing but a crutch'".

Wolfwood snatched the pack from Vash's hand. He opened the pack and pulled out a cigarette. He stuck in his mouth and looked around for something to light it with. Vash pulled out a match and struck it on the dresser. He lit Wolfwood's cigarette, then shook it out. Wolfwood inhaled deeply. He breathed the smoke out through his nose. "If there ever was a time for a crutch, eh?"

Vash chuckled, "Yeah, I'm almost tempted to start myself."

Wolfwood started laughing. This caused Vash to laugh even harder. They laughed at each other's faces for three minutes. Their laughter died down and they both sat down heavily on the bed. There was silence for a couple of minutes. Wolfwood tapped the ashes of his cigarette on the bedpost.

"So," Wolfwood said, "what's going on? The last thing I remember is, well, dying on the floor of a church. Did I not die?"

Vash shook his head. "You were, uh, dead. Like, buried in the ground with no heartbeat dead." Vash realized what he was saying. "Sorry."

Wolfwood shrugged. "It's alright, I guess. So if I was dead, why am I still breathing? If I was brought back to life, why do I look so different? Come to think of it, how long has it been since I died?"

Vash coughed nervously. He turned his head and stared out the window for a few moments.

"About twenty-one years."

"TWENTY-ONE YEARS?" Wolfwood put his face in his head.

Vash looked at him. The clothes he had bought for Wolfwood had been straight a second ago, but they were already rumpled now. Not too unusual for Wolfwood, the man seemed to generate some sort of aura of untidiness. If he ever got married, he'd probably show up in a dirty, unpressed tux.

Marriage.

Millie.

Jeremiah.

"There's something you should know. The night before you, uh. . ., died, did you and Millie, er. . ., do it?"

Wolfwood stared at Vash. "That's kind of personal, isn't it?" He grabbed Vash's canteen, which was lying on the dresser, and took a swig from it.

Vash sighed; the indirect approach wasn't working. "Congratulations Wolfwood, you're a father."

Wolfwood swallowed the water. "I guess I am. I mean, it's just another way to refer to a priest, isn't it?" he said. He took another swig.

Vash shook his head. "No, as in you're a dad."

Wolfwood performed the greatest spit-take in the history of spit-takes. Unfortunately, he performed it all over Vash. "I'M A WHAT?"

Vash wiped the water from his face. "A dad, as in Milly had a child that is yours."

Wolfwood slumped down. "I guess I've missed a lot." He sighed. "So Vash. What's up? What have I missed, being dead and all?"

* * *

An ile outside of town, a large van was sitting idly. The driver and the sole passenger were waiting for their compatriots.

"When will they get back?" the driver moaned.

"Be patient," the passenger responded, "they'll be here." She bent down and scratched her wolf behind the ears. "Master Knives would never betray us without good reason. Nor would Master Legato."

"I know, it's just that there's nothing to do! I've already maxed out the engine, fixed the turret, and added boosters! There's nothing left to do to this thing!" he responded

The passenger stopped scratching the wolf's ears. "We are not alone," she said. She pointed towards the west. The driver flipped a switch and a mini-gun turret on top of the car swiveled to face the incoming people.

"Stand down fools. It's Master Knives and I," Legato said.

The passenger rose from her seat. She opened the side door, jumped out of the van and moved to the side. Placing her hand on her shoulder, she bowed low as Knives and Legato entered the van. When Knives passed by, she looked at him like most people would look at a sunrise. She followed them into the van and shut the door.

The driver started to tap on the steering wheel. "Can we go yet boss?"

Legato shook his head. "We must wait for Julius," he said. Another silence fell over the van. They didn't have long to wait. Before the silence could become too uncomfortable, the passenger's ears pricked up.

"He's coming," she said.

Legato looked up. "Are you sure it's Julius?"

The passenger nodded. "Nobody wheezes like him." She got up and slid the door open. They could already see Julius's limping form coming over the sand dune. He raced up as quick he could and fell to his knees in front of the van's door.

Knives looked over him. "Where," he said, "is Nicholas D. Wolfwood?"

Julius prostrated himself before the van. "I'm sorry sir, but I was unable to complete the ritual. I had almost taken him when I was interrupted. During that time, his free will reasserted itself. Once the free will reasserts itself, there's no getting rid of it!"

Knives' eyebrow twitched. "And how were you interrupted?" he asked.

Julius whimpered. "It was Vash the Stampede sir! I'm sure it was him, he looked just like you! He came out of the church and started running at me! I didn't know what to do sir!"

The driver stopped drumming on the wheel and twisted around in his seat. "Vash huh? Should we go after him sir?"

"No," Legato responded, "to do so would tip our hand too early."

"I'm sorry master," Julius grated out. "I'm very sorry."

Knives breathed deeply, closed his eyes, and crossed his arms. "Julius, Julius, Julius," he said. "I consider myself very tolerant of you spiders. I understand that you are inferior beings, and therefore must have odd quirks that I could never understand. I let most of these things slide. However, there are two things I cannot tolerate. One is insubordination." He opened his eyes. "The other is failure."

Rough whimpers could be heard emanating form Julius's robe. "Please have mercy sir!"

Knives turned to Legato. "If you would?" he asked.

"Of course Master." Legato responded. Julius suddenly stopped whimpering. He stood up and dropped his walking staff. He clutched at the throat of his cloak. The hood looked up pleadingly at the occupants of the van, who had gone back to their other pursuits. Legato pulled a candy bar out of a bag and started eating it, even as he killed the man. The driver had started to drum on the steering wheel again, and the passenger had gone back to scratching the wolf. Eventually, Julius stopped struggling and fell down, motionless. He lay with face in the dust. Assuming he ever had a face under that hood. Knives motioned to the driver, who started up the car and drove off into the night.

"It's just as well," Legato said, "I was hoping to kill him soon anyway." He took another bite from the candy bar.

The passenger looked up from her wolf. "Why is that sir?"

Legato swallowed the last of the candy bar. "Death loses all of its pleasure when they can keep coming back my dear Blayne."

Blayne smiled and went back to scratching the wolf. Knives' hand shot and grabbed something in the wolf's fur. He raised his gloved hand. Between his forefinger and his thumb, a small insect struggled. He looked up and smiled at his minions. "One parasite down," he squished the tic between his fingers, "who knows how many more to go."

* * *

"And so I brought Knives back with me," Vash said. He leaned against the dresser.

Wolfwood nodded, he was already on his fifth cigarette. "Go on," he said.

Vash continued, "I found the insurance girls back where I had left them. Fortunately, Knives was still unconscious at that point. In fact, he stayed that way for about month. I went back with the insurance girls and lived with them for a while. I slowly nursed Knives back to health. When he was better, I thought that maybe I could convince him to see things my way. Was it foolish of me to think that? I still don't know. Either way, he escaped five months after he regained consciousness, taking his gun with him."

"Did you go after him?" Wolfwood asked.

"No," Vash replied, "I wanted to. I got scared thinking about the damage he could cause. But the girls were both pregnant, I couldn't leave them."

Wolfwood held up a hand. "Wait a minute, they were _both_ pregnant?"

"Oh yeah. I forgot to mention, I'm a daddy too."

Wolfwood shrugged. "It figures. Keep going."

"About three or four months later, Millie went into labor. There were some complications, but she and the kid made it through okay."

Wolfwood put his face in his hands. "I should have been there. I should have been there for her. She needed me, and I wasn't there for her."

Vash put his hand on Wolfwood's shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up about it. She wasn't alone; Meryl and me were there. She told us that it felt like you were there anyway. Like you were watching down from heaven," he said. That reminded Vash of something. He needed to remember to ask Woflwood about the afterlife.

"My son, what's his name?"

"Jeremiah Thomas Wolfwood."

"Thomas? After the animal?" Wolfwood grinned and shook his head. "Only Millie," he said.

"You want me to tell you about him?"

"No, keep going. You can tell me later."

Vash nodded and leaned against the dresser again. "Well, about a month later, Meryl had our daughter. We named her Nikki. After you."

Wolfwood took a drag on his cigarette. "Thank you."

Vash got up. "So I stuck around, not wanting to leave Meryl and Millie to raise the kids alone. I especially didn't want to leave them without a father figure." He stretched his arms up and put them behind his head. "When they got to be about ten, news reached my ears about Knives. He had slowly started to rebuild, found a new crazy or two to start doing his work again. I figured that I had to try and stop him, or what kind of world would my daughter grow up in?"

Wolfwood nodded and stubbed out his cigarette. He reached into the pack, took another cigarette, and lit it.

"So one day, I took my gun, left a note, and went out in search of Knives. Every once in a while I looked back in on them, but I only ever actually talked to any of them once. It was… oh…. five years ago. For a couple of days I stayed in town and came in contact with Jeremiah and Nikki. I asked them if either of their mothers had told them about what had happened before they were born. They told me that they had not." Vash took a swig from his canteen. "I was unsurprised and not entirely unpleased to find out that Meryl and Millie had decided that they shouldn't know. I figured that they were old enough now, so I told them everything I knew."

"That's it? You stayed in town long enough to tell them that tale?"

Vash grinned. "Well, that and teach Jeremiah how to shave."

Wolfwood chuckled. "If he's anything like me, there probably wasn't too much." He rubbed his stubbly chin. "We Wolfwoods were never good at facial hair."

"Yeah, he didn't have that much facial hair. He takes after you in that respect. He's a good kid you'd like him. Anyway, after that I left. I've never gotten that close to them again. It was the hardest thing in my life to leave them. Nowadays I can't get near any of them. The draw to just go back is too strong."

Wolfwood nodded and stubbed out his cigarette. He reached for the pack again to discover that he was on his last one. He took it out and lit it. He stood up from the bed and walked over to the open window. He breathed out a plume of smoke into the cold night air.

"I've been thinking, and I may know how I came back."

"You do?

"Yep, sit back Vash, it's my turn to tell a story."

Vash took his advice and sat down on the bed.

Wolfwood took a drag on the cigarette before continuing. You think you met all the Gung-Ho Guns? Well I got news for you, there were two more you didn't meet." Wolfwood blew out another puff of smoke. "One was a freak-show by the name of Martinez the Bloodsucker. Really creepy guy, right up there with Legato. There other was a guy called Julius the Necromancer."

"Necromancer?" Vash asked.

"Yeah," Wolfwood said, "the Necromancer. A necromancer is a person who can totally screw up the process of life and death."

"So you're thinking that this Julius guy brought you back? Why would he do that?"

Wolfwood shrugged. "I dunno."

Vash gave Wolfwood a hard stare. "How do you know all this anyway?"

"Chapel the Evergreen told me."

Vash looked at Wolfwood incredulously. "Chapel? The Gung-Ho Gun?"

"Yes, my old master Chapel. It's time I leveled with you Vash. I was working for Knives and Legato when I met you. Chapel told me that if I brought you safely to Dhemtri, he would make sure that the orphanage was kept safe." He stopped. "How is the orphanage, by the way?"

"Oh, the orphanage, it's good. We all make regular donations, and I stop to play with the kids if I'm ever in the area."

Wolfwood nodded. "Good. Well, as I was saying, I was leading you to Dhemtri. The day that I died, Chapel appeared to me and told me that I was now officially a Gung-Ho Gun. My orders were to kill you. If I did that, he promised the orphans would be well looked after." He sighed. "Total B.S., but I was almost willing to go through with it anyway."

"But you didn't go through with it. I remember that day all too well."

"Nope, while you were off fooling around with Caine, I confronted my old teacher. I beat him, but I chose not kill him. Your words after I killed Zazie were still ringing in my head. While I was leaving, something seemed to come over Chapel. He shouted out for me to run, but I wasn't fast enough. He shot me. And well, you know the rest."

Wolfwood took the last drag on the cigarette and stubbed it out. "I was betraying you the entire time Vash. I'll understand if you're mad at me."

Vash shook his head and stood up. "No Wolfwood, the good book preaches forgiveness, and so do I. You can never walk in darkness so long that cannot walk again in the light, that's the way I feel."

Wolfwood smiled. "Alright, so now what?"

"Well, I'm going after Knives, I don't know about you though."

"Well, if you're going after Knives, I'm going with you."

"But. . ."

"But nothing Vash. You're my friend and I'm coming with you. I can still shoot. In fact. . ."

He walked across the room and went out the door. Vash followed him wordlessly. Wolfwood walked through the silent streets and to the church where he died. He headed past it into the graveyard where he had been resting only hours ago. He went up to his open grave. He reached out and touched his Cross Punisher where it stood over his grave like a guardian. "Still in good working order."

Vash caught up with him. "Yeah, we came here every year, to pay our respects and keep it in good shape. I even got Frank Marlon out here to make sure it would still work."

Wolfwood nodded. "When did you bring it back? I mean, I thought that you said that you left it after you fought Knives?"

Vash nodded. "Yeah, but me and Millie went back there while Knives was still unconscious. In fact, we took everything, the cross, the revolvers, even the coat."

"Why the coat?"

"Millie made me. She said I should wear it if me and Meryl ever got married."

Wolfwood grinned. "She would."

"Are you sure that you still have the strength? I mean, you don't look like you used to. You look, well, old."

Wolfwood flexed his fingers. "Yeah I know, but I feel like I still have my strength." He grabbed the cross and pulled it out of the sand. He hefted it up onto his shoulder. "Besides, no burden is too heavy for those with faith."

They both turned around and starting walking back towards the hotel. "Hey Wolfwood." Vash said.

"Yeah, broom-head?"

"Does heaven exist?"

"Couldn't tell ya."

"Huh? You don't know?"

"Well, it's like when you go to sleep and you have a dream. Then you wake up, and while you don't remember the dream, you know you had a dream," Wolfwood said.

"So you don't remember anything?" Vash asked.

Wolfwood shook his head. "Coffee breaks."

Vash stared at him. "Coffee breaks?"

Wolfwood nodded. "Coffee breaks." They walked on for a while. "Hey Vash, did Millie ever find someone else. Ya know, move on?"

Vash shook his head. "No, she tried though. She wasn't able to find anyone. I personally think that she never really got over you."

Wolfwood grinned. "I don't know whether if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

"It's a good thing for you, and now it's a good thing for her. Just go with it."

* * *

Nikki: Years have been spent looking for a father. Now the mothers show up finding their wayward children. Do they do dare to trust their babies, and follow them after the man? And does one of them dare to go back to where the father of her son died so many years ago? What if, what if the peaceful grave she expected wasn't there? Next chapter: Hot On The Trail

* * *


	6. Hot On The Trail

No, I don't own Trigun. But let's be honest, did you really think that I did?

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In Septombre city, the sounds of a party filled the air. The people of Septombre were big on festivals, and escaping relatively unharmed from Calamity Clarissa Shriver seemed like a good excuse. Ironically, the heroes of the day couldn't make it.

The brave cavalryman couldn't make it because he had to watch the prisoner so she wouldn't escape. This involved them crouching in front of a hotel room door, listening to the other heroes of the day getting chewed out by their mothers.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT RED JACKET? ARE TRYING TO EMULATE YOUR FATHER OR SOMETHING? AND WHAT'S WITH THESE GUNS? THEY'RE ALMOST PERFECT REPLICAS!"

"Mother, I didn't choose the guns, Mr. Marlon did. He said they were perfect for me. And the jacket. . ."

"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT NIKKI! YOU JUST LEFT ONE DAY WITH NOTHING BUT A NOTE! I THOUGHT YOU WERE SOLID AND RESPECTABLE LIKE ME, BUT NOOOOOOO! YOU HAVE TO GO OFF LIKE YOUR FATHER! WHAT, DID YOU DECIDE TO GO LOOKING FOR HIM?"

"Well. . ."

"SHUSH!"

It was all Evans and Calamity could do to keep themselves from laughing. Evans forced down a chuckle and pointed the left, in the direction of Jeremiah's mother's room. They crept over to the door and pressed their ears against it. While Jeremiah's mother was very loud, Nikki's mom was threatening to drown her out.

"AND I FIND YOU IN A BAR WITH THIS? DID YOU TAKE THIS FROM YOUR FATHER'S GRAVE? OHHHH, JEREMIAH IF I FIND OUT THAT YOU'VE TAKEN THIS FROM HIS GRAVE I SWEAR I'LL BEAT YOU!"

"No mom, it's not his. Look!"

The sound of leather snaps breaking open could be faintly be heard.

"See mom? It's not his, I made it myself!"

"YOU MADE IT YOURSELF? WHERE DID YOU LEARN TO MAKE GUNS? ESPECIALLY ONES LIKE THIS?"

"I spent a year working under Mr. Marlon mom. I told him I wanted a gun like the one dad had! We went out to his grave to get the specs! I even made some improvements!"

"LIKE WHAT, THE SKULL? HOW COULD YOU PUT SOMETHING SO CREEPY ON A CROSS?"

"Well, I just thought it looked cool. . ."

"WELL IT DOESN'T, IT LOOKS CREEPY!"

At this point, Evans and Calamity figured they should go downstairs. If they held their laughter in any longer, their internal organs were going to burst out their sides. Calamity motioned to the stairs, and they both started to creep past the door towards them. Unfortunately for them, Calamity stepped on a black cat's tail halfway between the rooms. The cat yowled in pain and ran off. Suddenly, the shouting stopped. There was silence for a moment, during which, Evans glared daggers (or seemed to be doing so under his sunglasses) at Calamity. The doors burst open, Miss Stryfe and Miss Thompson stood in them. Miss Stryfe pointed two very nasty looking Derringers at each of their heads. Evans glanced over at Miss Thompson's door. She stood there hefting a very large gattling-style stun gun. Like most people facing death, Evans found that his mind was preoccupied with other things. All he could think about was that it was amazing that a woman in forties, even such a tall woman, could wield so large a gun.

Beside him, Calamity laughed nervously. Evans leaned over to her and whispered through gritted teeth, "I'm gonna kill you, you do know that?"

Calamity nodded, "Assuming they don't kill us first, yeah."

* * *

Far away from Septombre, on the outskirts of LR Town, a van waited for nightfall. The driver looked at his watch. "Martinez should be here soon. Right?"

Blayne stopped scratching her wolf. "Lorand, for a man who once spent an entire day calibrating a gun turret, you are remarkably impatient."

Sunset came, and Martinez still did not show.

"Look on the bright side," Blayne said, "at least we can listen to the music while we wait."

"Music?" Lorand said.

Blayne nodded. "Listen, you'll hear it. Julius passed through the graveyard here a while ago. They wanted to see if they could raise Midvalley the Hornfreak."

"Well, they couldn't obviously, otherwise there'd be one more of us, right?"

"Nope, the body was too far gone. Some animals had gotten to it before it was buried."

"Good, two walking corpses hanging around is all I can take. Just as well the bosses killed Julius."

"True. Anyway, whenever a necromancer passes through a graveyard, strange things start to happen like. . . ah, there it is."

Saxophone music drifted into the van. The player was a master, perhaps the greatest saxophone master since one man had picked up the instrument so many years ago and played his out his soul. Lorand and Blayne sat in the van silently for a long while, listening to the former Gung-Ho Gun's song.

The van door slid open and Martinez stepped in. His bullet wounds were gone, but his clothing was still shredded. "Ah, I miss Midvalley. That man knew how to play." He turned around and closed the door. "Sorry I'm late, but I was feeling pretty hungry when I woke up so I stopped by to sample the local flavor." He shook his head. "Not so good. The people around here don't eat right." He shrugged.

Martinez was the only person that Blayne couldn't hear coming. "I hate it when you do that."

He shrugged and looked around the van. "Where's Julius?"

Lorand turned around in his seat. "He failed the boss, so he was killed."

"Oh, really? Too bad." Martinez slid into a seat.

"So how did your mission go, Martinez?"

"It had to be abandoned, something completely unexpected came up."

"The boss ain't gonna like that."

"I'm not worried. He'll understand when he hears why."

"So what's the big news?" Blayne asked.

"Do know how unique the taste of Plant blood is? No, I don't suppose you would. Well, let's just say that our Master has niece, eh? We can leave it at that I think."

* * *

"That reminds me," Miss Stryfe said, her derringers firmly fixed on Evans and Calamity, "who are these two?"

"Well, Miss Stryfe. . ." Evans started to say.

"A: Don't call me Miss Stryfe. I really don't like being called Miss Stryfe. B. I didn't ask _you _anything."

"Well, er. . . what's your first name?"

"Meryl"

"Well Meryl, would you mind putting your guns down? It's kind of unsettling. Same for you Miss, uh. . ."

"Oh just call me Millie!" she said, having already lowered her gun. She walked over to Evans and Calamity. "Pleased to meet you Mr. . . ."

"Lieutenant, actually. Lieutenant Evans Braxler. Of the 14th Cavalry."

She grabbed his hand and shook it.

"And you are?"

"Calamity Clarissa Shriver. Daughter of, OW!" Evans had kicked her in the shins. "Why did you kick me?"

Evans turned to her. "Because you're not his daughter. That's why."

Meryl lowered her derringers. "Not whose daughter?" Behind her, Nikki was waving frantically. She kept shaking her head and drawing her hand across her neck.

Calamity either didn't see her or didn't care. "Vash the Stampede's."

Millie laughed. "You can't be Mr. Vash's daughter! Nikki is!" She realized what she had just let out and covered her mouth. "Oops."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a minute. They could hear the sounds of the partiers outside. The band played, leading the dancing feet of the townspeople. In dark alleyways, young men used their best words with the young women. Not even this sound could fill the silence in the room now.

Finally, Evans spoke. "You're what?"

Nikki grinned nervously. "Vash the Stampede is my father."

"Riiiight."

"You don't believe me either, do you?"

"Nope."

"Oh come on! You saw her back with Calamity! How can you doubt that gunmanship?" Jeremiah said.

Evans shrugged. "There are a lot of good gunmen in the world," he said, "Not all of them are related to Vash the Stampede."

Meryl edged over to Millie. "Was I this much of an ass when we first met Vash?" she whispered.

"Oh, no Meryl." Millie whispered back. "You were much worse."

"Do you have any proof?"

"What, like a birth certificate? Yeah, I have that, but my dad wasn't going to use his real name, was he?"

"Really? Then you don't have proof?"

Nikki was fuming now. "WELL YOU CAN JUST ASK HIM YOURSELF WHEN WE FIND HIM WON'T YOU?" She was breathing heavily and her eyes flashed.

"When you'll what?" Meryl asked.

"Yeah, I'm leading them to Vash the Stampede. I guess I can admit that I'm not his daughter now," Calamity said.

"Oh don't tell me you actually believe them?" Evans shouted.

"Don't have any good reason not to," Calamity responded.

"You know where Vash is?" Meryl asked skeptically. "I've heard that before, from people with a helluva lot more credibility than you."

Calamity reached into her jacket and undid a snap. She pulled a pair of sunglasses from an inner pocket, with the delicacy she might have pulled a grenade from one of her other pockets. She handed them to Meryl. Meryl looked down at the object in her hands. They weren't that much to look at, nothing but small yellow lenses with no frames to hold them. The earpieces were the only noticeable things about them, bent into a zigzag pattern in the middle. That hadn't been in style for a good twenty years.

"Meryl? Are those really. . .?" Millie stopped when she saw them herself.

Meryl cradled them in her hands. Was it so long ago that she had cradled Nikki the same way? Vash had been there then. Now, she might actually find him. She suddenly remembered to breathe.

"Where did you get those sunglasses?" Nikki asked.

"From Vash. He gave 'em to me before he left for Tonim. He said he was going to spend some time there."

Millie looked up from the glasses. "Mr. Vash went to Tonim?" she said.

* * *

Knives' tastes were fairly simple when it came to his furniture. Currently he was seated in a white lawn chair, sipping a glass of wine. A half empty bottle stood on the table next to him.

"And why weren't you able to finish hijacking the train? We need those funds Martinez. This place doesn't run on air."

"An unexpected guest crashed the party. I had to come back here."

"What, was my brother on the train?"

"Not exactly sir. Tell me, when you were with your brother Vash, did anything change about the women while you were there?"

"They gained some weight, what of it? That was one of the most horrible times in my life. I should have you killed just for bringing it up."

Martinez shook his head. "Oh no sir. They weren't just gaining weight, well at least one of them wasn't. At least one of them was pregnant."

Knives choked on his wine. Legato moved from his place behind Knives and slapped him on the back. Knives sputtered a bit than managed to get himself under control. "Are you saying," he growled, "that Vash had a child with one of those… things?" Martinez nodded. "How can you be sure?" Knives shot at him.

Martinez grinned, showing his fangs. "Remember when we first met, sir? I tried to drink your blood but you ripped me off before I could get more than a sip? Well, I have never forgotten the taste of your blood. Never."

"Are you saying you tasted Plant blood on the person you found?" Legato asked.

"Not quite." Martinez said. He walked to the bar behind Knives and Legato and selected a bottle from the top. His "special" vintage. He took a shaker from the lower shelf and poured some of the wine Knives was drinking into it. To this he added his own special brand. "She was more like…" he said as he shook the shaker. He stopped shaking it and poured the mixture into another wine glass. He swirled it around and took a sip. "A mixed drink."

Knives was shaking visibly. His grip on the wineglass tightened until it shattered in his fist. He stood up and threw the pieces on the floor. His eyes flashed. "HOW COULD HE DO THIS?" He swept the wine bottle off the table. "HOW COULD HE STOOP SO LOW? THE VERY IDEA IS REVOLTING!" He grabbed the table and overturned it.

Legato and Martinez watched with bemusement. Martinez held up his glass. "Want some?"

"Thank you, I believe I will." He took a sip from the glass. "Not bad, but I prefer the 87."

Knives continued to destroy things in his rage. He finally ran out of things to throw and stood in the middle of the room, panting heavily. "AND TO TOP IT ALL OFF, HE BROUGHT A, A, A FREAK INTO THE WORLD! A MISERABLE HALF-THING THAT SHOULDN'T EVER HAVE EXISTED!" He continued to pant, slowly regaining his composure. "Vash, I will let you live for this treachery. But, but that bastard-child must not be allowed to live any longer than is necessary." He walked over to the bar and poured himself another drink, this time some whiskey. "Now, where could she be?"

"They're most likely in Septombre, sir. That's where the steamer I tried to hijack was headed."

"They?"

"She was traveling with a young man. A young man with a Cross Punisher."

Knives downed his drink in one gulp. "Figures." He leaned against the bar. "Legato, do we have anyone near Septombre?"

Legato shook his head. "We are gathered here for the most part. Schneider might have been able to make it, but he's out of contact right now."

Knives nodded, then retreated to his room, holding his head. "I need to think. Go about your business."

Legato and Martinez placed their hands on their shoulders and bowed.

* * *

The next day dawned bright in Septombre. This was about the absolute last thing the townspeople wanted. Everyone had elected to skip work that day due to massive hangovers.

On the sand steamer bridge, Kaite looked over the hungover town. He cursed; he had really wanted to go to that party. But the captain hadn't permitted it.

"Oh quit whining," a mechanic said, "you wouldn't have had that much fun."

Kaite turned around. "How do you know what I'm thinking about?"

The mechanic smiled. She was very pretty to Kaite's eyes. Her hair was almost always dirty, but it was black so it didn't make much of a difference. The nametag on her uniform read "Mariah". She walked up to Kaite. "Because darlin'," she said as she placed her hand on his forehead. "I always know what you're thinking." She pushed him back into the window.

"Yeah you do. How do you that?" Kaite asked.

"All wives can do that helmsman. It's just one of their great mysteries." The captain said as he entered the bridge. "Can we get some coffee up here?"

"She's not technically my wife yet…" Kaite responded.

"Close enough sugar," Mariah said, tapping the ring on her right index finger.

"True."

* * *

"Couldn't you have gotten us a better room? Or better yet, a room period?" Calamity muttered. The four of them were in what is commonly known as economy class. Better known as bottom of the barrel sleep in the hallway class. First-class passengers wouldn't be caught dead around here. Occasionally one of their kids would come down here to poke fun at some of the passengers.

"They're free Calamity, don't complain." Nikki said.

"Yeah, but why are my hands tied?"

"Because I don't trust you," Evans said. He was sitting with Nikki across the hall from Jeremiah and Calamity, with his hat pushed down over his sunglasses.

"Oh, c'mon. She can't go anywhere, she's on a moving sand steamer!" Jeremiah said.

"You saw the guy jump off the last sand steamer we were on, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but he also took a bullet to the head and lived."

He shrugged. "True, but I still don't really care."

"You cut my bonds before!"

"That was symbolic."

Jeremiah reached into his jacket and pulled out a switchblade. He flicked it open and sawed through the ropes. "I'm letting her go. I don't really care what you say."

Evans was about to get up and protest, but fell down heavily instead. "Whatever, just don't let her have her coat."

"But it's cold down here!" Calamity said as she rubbed her wrists.

"But you have explosives in that coat, so no." Nikki said.

Evans groaned. "Christ in Heaven, my head hurts."

Nikki turned to him. "That's your own damn fault and you know it."

Calamity stood up. She reached into her hair and undid the pigtails she usually kept it in, letting her red hair fall down to her waist. "That's much better," she said. "I always feel like I've got a rubber bands wrapped around my head when it's like that."

"You look much better that way," Jeremiah said. "Why don't keep it?"

"Ain't practical," she said. "You guys gonna check in on your mothers?"

Nikki grunted and turned her head away.

"Can't be angry at each other forever," Jeremiah said. He stood up. "You may still be angry with your mom, but I think I'll go see how they're doing." He left them and walked up the stairs.

Evans groaned again and slunk further down the wall. "Lucky. They get a decent cabin and can write it off as a business expense."

"Wasn't always that way," Nikki said. "Things have really moved up in quality since the old days. Used to be that second class was bunking with a bunch of strangers. One time Jeremih's mom and my mom had to work off their fare at the food counter."

Evans lifted up his hat. Nikki wondered why he bothered with it; he was still wearing his sunglasses under them. "Refresh my memory, they sell headache medicine at the counters?"

* * *

Jeremiah walked up the stairs into the second-class cabin area. This place was a step or two from the fourth class bunk he and Nikki had shared his last voyage. They had a sitting room for the guests and a carpet or two. He found his mom sitting on one of the sitting room couches, a pudding packet in front of her and a spoon in her right hand. She waved to him. He waved back and sat down on the couch in front of her.

"Pudding again mom?"

"Best stuff on the planet! Want some Jeremiah?"

Jeremiah shook his head. "Nah, I'm not hungry. I might get something for the rest of 'em."

"We both know what Nikki wants!" Millie said.

Jeremiah nodded. "Doughnuts," they said together.

Millie smiled and put down her spoon. She wasn't serious very often, especially with her son, but she wanted him to know something.

"Jeremiah, you know your father's grave is in Tonim."

Jeremiah nodded. "Yeah, I visit it every year."

"I thought you would. Jeremiah, do you know who your father was?"

"Yeah, he was a priest. Ran an orphanage out in the middle of nowhere."

"Well, you know there was more to him than that?"

"Yeah, I know. He killed people mom. I know"

"Did Mr. Vash tell you that?"

"Yeah mom, he did."

"What else did Mr. Vash say?"

"He told me that Nicholas D. Wolfwood was one of his greatest friends. One of his only friends."

Someone cleared his throat behind Jeremiah. It was the captain. "Are you Millie Thompson?"

Millie perked up. "That's me!"

"Ah, may I sit down?" Millie nodded.

The captain bowed and sat down on a couch.

Millie gestured towards Jeremiah. "Oh, this is my son!"

Jeremiah extended his hand. "Jeremiah T. Wolfwood."

The captain shook it. "Ah, Wolfwood. I thought so. I've seen you two coming down to Tornim before." He fingered something in his pocket. "You come down to visit the grave of your husband, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, correct?"

Millie's face tightened. "That was his name, but he never got to be my husband."

"Ah, I'm sorry. Well, perhaps you have heard of the grave robbing epidemic?"

Jeremiah's eyes opened wide. He thought that he could see where this was going.

Millie nodded.

"Well it's spread to Tornim, and well. . ." he trailed off. He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Jeremiah. He looked at it, already guessing what it said. He scanned it, and handed it to his mother. She took it and read it. It was a transcript of a radio news show, a small side item.

The grave robbing epidemic that has plagued the planet hit the town of Tornim last night. The robbers chose to focus on a single grave, that of a priest named Nicholas D. Wolfwood. The sheriff's office believe that his grave was targeted due to the cross shaped gun standing over the grave, which was taken along with the body. The cross gun could be valued at. . .

Millie stopped reading. She crumpled up the paper and squeezed her eyes shut. It didn't help, the tears came through anyway, dropping on to the crumpled paper. Jeremiah stepped over the table and sat next to his mother, putting his arm around her shoulder. He bowed his head.

"I'm sorry," said the captain.

* * *

Jeremiah: The cross of my father is gone. I now carry my own cross with me, built by my own hands. I am always told that I look like my father, what a great person he was. I try to follow his example, just as I followed the example of his cross when I made my own, but it is my own cross to bear, just as his was his to bear. I know who I am. I look at Nikki and I wonder, is she looking for her father to get him back, or because she really doesn't know who she is? Next Chapter: Plants and Abominations


	7. Plants and Abominations

I hate having to write these.  I don't own Trigun or any of the characters.  I just own my characters, whom you may use if you ask me nicely or buy me a pizza or something.

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            The captain sipped his coffee and thought about the message he had been forced to deliver.  He hated to give bad news.  He had run into the poor woman the next day, and her eyes were puffy with tears.  And the day after that, and the day after that. 

The coffee was starting to become bitter in his mouth.  He set it down on a nearby console.  "How close are we to Tonim, Helmsman?"

Kaite did some calculations in his head.  "We'll probably be there in a couple of hours."

The captain nodded.  "We'd best radio ahead and let them know we're coming then." 

            "They just aren't responding sir!" the radio operator explained to the captain.

The captain frowned.  "Are you sure the radio is still working?"

The operator nodded.  "I can get other places sir, I just can't get Tonim."

"Hmmm."

            "The captain says we'll be getting to Tonim soon," Nikki said as she walked down the stairs. 

Jeremiah levered himself off the ground.  "I better grab my stuff. Anyone want to come with me?"

"No."

"Not really." 

"Is my coat there?"

Jeremiah nodded.  "It's there."

"Then I'm coming," Calamity stood up to go with him but Evans hand shot out and grabbed her shirt.  He pulled back down to the cold floor. 

"No coat, it has too many nasty things in it.  You get the coat back after they find Vash the Stampede and I set you loose for real." 

Calamity stuck her tongue out at Evans and crossed her arms. 

"Well aren't we mature?" Evans asked.

Jeremiah shook his head and went for his luggage before they could start throwing things at each other.  He should probably check on his mom.  He was amazed at how hard she had taken the news of the grave robbing.  Sure it was sad, but it wasn't like he had died again, was it? He scratched his ear and realized that he had taken out his earring and forgotten to put it back in. 

He reached into his pocket and pulled a small stud.  He rolled it up onto his thumb and flipped it like a coin, catching it in the middle of its fall.  He held it in his palm and looked at it. 

He stopped and stared at the earring for a while.  A small sliver cross-shaped stud.  His mother had given it to him when he had gotten his ear pierced.  That was five, no six years ago.  It was one of few things he had taken with him when had left.  It was one of the few links he had had to his mother.  She had almost no links to his father.  She had the grave, and him.  Now she just had him. 

Who was this guy?  This man named Nicholas D. Wolfwood?  All he had was stories, told to him by his mother, Nikki's mother, and Nikki's father.  Stories of a basically good man led astray.  He clenched his fist over the small cross.  He didn't even know what his father looked like, beyond the face he saw in the mirror every morning.   "Why do I carry a cross?  I'm no priest.  I'm just the son of one.  Am I trying to live up to someone I don't even know?  Who the hell was he?"

He shook his head.  No, he was his own man, and the cross he carried was his own cross.  He put the earring in and started walking towards the hold again.

"Aggghhhh, what the hell are you doing?  Let go of my hair!"

Jeremiah frowned and looked behind him.  That sounded like Evans.

            "Let go of my ponytail Nikki! Do you have any idea how much this hurts?"

"You're not smoking that down here Evans."

"Why not? OW!"

Nikki started dragging Evans up the stairs. "Because it's a closed-in space and they stink the place up.  It'd be one thing if you smoked cigarettes, but since you're intent on smoking cigars, you're going to the observation deck."

"I can walk there on my OW!"

Nikki entered the second-class lounge.  She knew that there was an entrance to the observation deck somewhere around here, but where?  She saw her mother and Ms. Thompson sitting at a couch.  The table in front of them was covered in forms, sheets, and reports.  She dragged Evans over to the table.

"Hey Aunt Millie, can you get from the observation deck from here?"

Millie looked up.  Her eyes weren't puffy anymore, but she wasn't her usually cheerful self.  "Sure sweetie.  Right over there." She turned and pointed to another flight of stairs.

"Thanks Aunt Millie," Nikki said.

"Hey, Miss Meryl, help me out here!  She's your daughter, you can get her to let go of my hair!"

Meryl didn't even look up from her paperwork.  "If my daughter's got you by the hair, that's your problem Lieutenant."

"Yeah but… please!  Help!  Miss Thompson? Anybody?  OW!"

Nikki dragged him up the stairs, pushed the door open, and threw Evans outside.  "Now, you can smoke."  

"Thanks, you're so kind," Evans said.  He took out a lighter and lit his cigar. "It's times like this that I contemplate quitting," he grumbled, walking over to the portside rail.  Oh well, at least he had the deck to himself.  Well, mostly to himself.  A small cat perched on one of the chairs that littered the deck.  He reached down and scratched it behind the ears.  "Yeah, you won't complain about my smoking habits, will you?"

"Nya," the cat said.

 Evans leaned over the guardrail and watched the desert roll by.  He reached back to double check if his ponytail was still there.  The city drew closer as the steamer chugged along its way.  Evans could start to notice details about the town, the quiet graveyard to the northeast, the quiet bank in the center, the quiet sheriff's office, the quiet….

"Where the hell is everybody?" Evans said.

            Millie stretched her arms over her head and yawned. "I can't do much more of this Meryl.  Is it really this hard to request some time off?"

"Well, since we've got to make up a family illness to get it, yes it is."

"I have to take a break.  I'm going to get some food."  She stood up and saw Nikki coming down from the observation deck.  "Hey Nikki!  Keep my seat warm for me will ya?"  She turned and strode off to the food counter.

"Wait! But…"  Nikki trailed off.  She walked over to the couch and sat down by her mother, who continued to do paperwork.  Nikki started humming quietly to herself.

"Why Nikki?  Why did you go?" Meryl had stopped writing and was staring down at the table.

Nikki clasped her hands in her lap.  "I wanted to find dad."

"You went looking for Vash?"

"Uh-huh"

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to know what he was."

Meryl looked at her daughter.  "What he was?"

Nikki nodded.  "Did Jeremiah and I ever tell you that we saw him again after he left?  Well, we did.  He showed up five years ago.  He, he told us about his brother, the Gung-Ho Guns, Jeremiah's father.  Everything.  Well, almost everything."  Her eyes started to water.

"What? You saw him?"

"Yeah.  And mom, he looked the same.  His hair was darker, but he looked exactly the same as the day he left."  She sniffed.  "Why didn't he age mom?  Why does he stay the same when everyone else changes?  He's not human is he?  He can't be."  She put her face in her hands.  "Jeremiah was right.  I'm not completely human.  I hate to admit it but he's right.  I'm not human.  What the hell am I mom?"

Meryl leaned over and put her arms around Nikki.  "Why didn't you ask me?  I can tell you what you are."

"Yeah?  What am I then?"

"You're my daughter.  And you're Vash's daughter.  I think that's all that matters for now."

Nikki smiled into her hands.  "I think I can work with that for now."

            The sand steamer slowed to halt in front of Tonim.  No one came out to meet it, to help with the unloading.  To see what mail had come.  Or because they had nothing better to do.  The place was completely empty. 

"What the hell is going on?"  the captain said.  "Get that Cavalryman up here."

            A door opened on the sand steamer.  Evans came out and swung himself down on a ladder, followed by Nikki, Kaite, Jeremiah, the captain, two more guards, and Calamity. 

When they were about halfway down, Millie and Meryl swung out of the door and started climbing down.

"Shouldn't we make them go back in?" the captain asked.

"Do you want a stun-gun bolt to the face?" Jeremiah responded, shifting his cross to a more comfortable position on his back.

Evans reached the bottom of the ladder and jumped to the ground.  There wasn't a single person in sight.  Just a disturbingly large amount of blood.

"Meryl, could this mean what I think it means?"

"I don't know Millie. It doesn't look like the last time this happened."

"Yeah, there wasn't any blood the last time."  They reached the bottom and jumped to the ground. 

The captain brushed his fingers along a bloodstained wall.  It had been dry for a while now.  "Alright everyone, spread out and look for townspeople.  We've got to find out what happened here."

Evans raised an eyebrow.  "Shouldn't I be in charge?"

"I was in the Cavalry for twenty years son.  I can easily pull rank on you."

"Ahhh, right.  You're the boss."

Calamity was annoyed that Evans had still forbidden her to have her coat.  She wandered around the corner and into a main street.  She stopped cold and leaned against the wall.  She fought to keep her lunch down for a while, and then called out, "I found the townspeople!"

"Great! Where are they?" Evans said as he ran around the corner.  "Oh my God."

The rest of the group followed them and stopped, unable to say anything. 

The street intersected with another street in the town to form a small plaza, with a monument in the middle.  The mangled bodies of the townspeople lay strewn around the plaza in small piles; blood caked around their wounds. The stench of baking flesh hung around the place like a bad party guest, never leaving and seemingly everywhere.  On the monument, scrawled in blood, was the word "Knives".

Meryl and Mille stared at the monument and felt lumps forming in their throats.  Not again?

They stood still, their minds unable to take in the picture of death before them, then ran up to the bodies.  Kaite got there first.  He kneeled on the ground in front of a body and turned the head towards him.  A pair of empty eyes stared back.  "Hey captain!  This guy's had his throat torn out."

"Him too!"

"And her!"

"Poor kid."

"This looks like an animal attack," a guard said.

"Animal?  What kind of animals could do this?" Jeremiah asked.           

"Wolves."

"Wolves?  How do you know that mom?"

Millie pointed to a small row of wolf corpses.  Unlike the humans, the wolf corpses had been laid out carefully in a neat row. 

Evans stood up.  "Well, some human survived.  Most wolves can't lay out corpses.  Or write." He jerked his head towards the monument.  "Knives, what the hell does that mean?"

"Yeah, there was a human here." Nikki said.  She was kneeling down next to the corpse of a man with a gun.  She gently lifted up his head to reveal his neck.  Unlike the rest of the people's, it was mostly intact, except for a straight cut across it.

"What caused that?" Kaite asked.

"Hey! Same with this guy!" Calamity called out.  She pointed at the corpse of a woman with a small revolver. 

"Hmmm, the sheriff too," the captain said, stroking his chin.  "Everyone with a gun."

They kept looking around the body piles, except for Millie, Meryl, Nikki, and Jeremiah.  They stood silent, staring at the word on the monument.  Knives. 

            Two suns went down, five moons went up.  The captain had ordered a gigantic search party.  He was convinced that somebody must have survived.  "Never go anywhere alone.  You're partner is now you're lifelong friend, I don't care if you've never met each other before, or even if you hated each other, your partner is your best buddy.  If they go in a building, you follow. If they go to the bathroom, you help.  Got it?  If you find anything dangerous, do not approach it; come to Helmsman Kaite, Security Chief Sumner, Lieutenant Braxler, or me.  Well?  Why are you just standing there? Get going!"

A well-dressed man approached him.  "Excuse me captain, but we want to know when we'll be leaving this horrid place?"

The captain glared at him.  "Why aren't you out searching?"

"Oh surely you didn't mean that we search too?"

"I don't believe I said anything about just the crew and the people in the lower classes searching, did I?"

"But, we don't know what's out there!  I'm unarmed!"

The captain pulled a PF Marlon out of his belt and snapped the barrel out.  He slotted six bullets into it, closed the barrel and slapped into the well-dressed man's hand.  "Well, now you are.  Get looking."

            "Why are you still wearing your sunglasses?  Are you just trying to look cool?"

"Cavalry secret. If I told you I'd have to kill you."

"Whatever," Jeremiah muttered.  He stopped in front of a building and swung the cross off his back, planting it in the dirt.  "Let's look in here."

"Seems as likely as anywhere else," Evans said.  He shoved the door open.  The building was obviously a hotel of some sort.  The room the door opened into was plain, having no decoration other than a carpet that had once been on the floor.  To the right, a long counter stood, papers thrown all over it.  A wallboard behind the counter had once held keys, but these had been knocked to the ground during the attack. 

"Anyone in here?" Jeremiah yelled as he stepped into the building.

"Not too likely my friend," Evans said, pointing at the blood and chaos that permeated the room.

"It's worth a shot," Jeremiah said.

Evans nodded.  "It's always worth a shot." He walked into the room, stepping over the papers and dried blood.  He bent down and picked up a book from the floor.  "What do we have here?"

"What is it?" Jeremiah asked, looking over Evans' shoulder. 

Evans reached back and pushed Jeremiah back into the wall.  "Quit reading over my shoulder, and I'll tell you."  He placed the book on the counter, reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out a lighter.  _Click. Click._ _Fwump. _ A small flame spurted from the lighter and Evans held it over the open book.

            While Evans and Jeremiah were inspecting the hotel, Millie, Meryl, Calamity, and Nikki trudged towards the town's sole Plant. 

"Can't you convince Evans to give me back my coat?" Calamity whined.

"From what I've heard about you Miss Shriver, that coat should be taken out into the wastelands and blown up with a rocket launcher," Meryl responded.

Calamity drew her arms around herself.  "I feel so defenseless without it."

"While the rest of us feel much safer.  You could probably level the city with that thing."

Millie came up to Calamity and threw an arm around her.  "Don't worry Miss Shriver, we'll protect you!"

Calamity looked at Millie's smiling face.  "That's sooo comforting.  And quit calling me Miss Shriver."

"Oh I'm sorry.  Would you rather I call you call you Clarissa?"

"Call me… oh never mind."

They reached the outskirts of town where the giant Plant loomed.  "Ever been in one of these Calamity?" Nikki asked.

"You'd be surprised." Calamity answered.

"I haven't been to one for years.  Remember mom?  We'd go down to them with dad?  He wanted me to learn about 'em?"

Meryl nodded.  "I remember honey.  Once a month if I remember."

"There's a weird field trip if I've ever heard one."

"Yeah, well… Sweet Jesus."

Ten years ago, a Plant almost overloaded.  Had it not been stopped, the entire city would've gone up, making Lost July look like a kid's party.  Ever since then, the Federal Government mandated that at least one Plant technician be stationed at every Plant, if only to watch over things.  Usually the technicians hired a staff from the surrounding town.  This resulted in a job increase in the towns, a boost in the PR of the plant technicians, and the Federal Government got to look good in the eyes of the people.

The staff and the technician lay all around the Plant, their bodies twisted and mangled.  The sand around the plant ran red, as if the Plant itself was bleeding.

"Are those guys organs…?" Calamity asked.

"Ummm, maybe we should go tell the captain?" Millie said.

"Oh Lord, look at this guy! He's been folded in half!" Calamity said, kneeling near a broken body.

Meryl approached the bulb.  Someone had again scrawled words in blood.  "Soon?" Meryl said.

A pair of yellow eyes opened in the shadows.  Humans, they shouldn't be here, She had told him so.  They walked around the battleground, inspecting the losers.  A growl started in his throat, She had told them that none could approach the bulb.  He leapt out of the shadows, knocking the short one to the ground.

"MOM!" Nikki shouted.  She pulled her revolver and pointed at the two fighting bodies.  Meryl was keeping the wolf from her throat, but just barely.

"Don't shoot!" Calamity shouted, "You could hit the Plant!"  She threw herself into a roll, coming up and tackling the wolf against the bulb.  Something flashed in her hand and she plunged it deep into the wolf's chest.  The wolf spasmed, then fell still.

Calamity stood up and wiped the sweat off her brow.  "You okay?"

            "It's the hotel register," Jeremiah said.

"Yep," Evans said.  "Looks like the clerk didn't like their job."

"What makes you say that?"

Evans pointed at some writing by the names.  "He kept a running commentary of who entered and left.  Let's see, one Alex Saverem."

"Alex Saverem?  That's the pseudonym Nikki's dad used when he was with us."

"Yeah, sure, Vash the Stampede, I know."

"You still won't believe us?"

"Put yourself in my place Jeremiah, would you believe me?  Let's see, described as a tall guy with spiky blonde hair.  Maybe he is The Stampede.  'Leaves the next day with friend.  Says he's heading south looking for someone.'"

"South? Hmmm."

"Next entry, no name.  'Beautiful blonde comes in.  Real artistic type.  What a looker.  Says her name's Bla-."

"Bla-?  Bla what?"

"Just Bla-, the writing trails off." He dropped the book on the ground.  "Well that was instructive."

Jeremiah shrugged, "Not for you maybe."

People started rushing past the window. 

"Did you hear?"

"Someone was attacked!"

"Who?"

"One of the insurance ladies!"

Jeremiah's head snapped up.  "WHAT?" He dashed out the door and grabbed his cross.  A flick of a snap and the straps came flying off.  He pulled the Cross Punisher from its cover and ran off with the crowd.

"Jeremiah! Wait up!  Jeremiah!" Evans cried out, rushing after him.  "Freakin' crowd.  Out of my way! Cavalry, comin' through!"

Jeremiah forced his way through the crowd, a pretty easy feat when you're over 6'6'' and carrying a giant metal cross.  He suddenly burst through the end of the crowd and stumbled into a clearing.  Nikki and Millie stood there, supporting Meryl, Calamity following close behind. 

"What happened?" Jeremiah gasped.

"Meryl got attacked by a wolf!"

"Yeah, apparently there's one or two left around," Nikki added.

"You all right Aunt Meryl?"

"I'm fine.  You two can stop helping me.  I can walk for myself."

The crowd had stopped to watch this exchange, which was making it very hard for anyone to get through.  "LET US THROUGH OR I'M LEAVING YOU HERE!" Kaite shouted. The captain, Evans, Kaite, the security chief, and Mariah burst through the crowd. 

"Y'all okay?" Mariah asked.

Meryl shook off Mille and Nikki.  "I'm fine, just a little battered."

"You sure Miss Stryfe?" Kaite asked.

"Meryl, and I'm fine, Calamity saved me before anything bad could happen."

Calamity?" Evans said.  He noticed the bloody knife in Calamity's hand.  "Where did you get that?" he asked.

Calamity looked down at the knife in her hand.  "Oh this?  I had it in my boot."

"Figures," Evans said.

The captain consulted with security chief and turned to Evans.  "We think we should go back into the steamer for the night."

Evans nodded.  "I'm all for that.  Find any survivors?"

The captain shook his head sadly.  "Not a one.  The entire town has been wiped out.  And they just put back together in too."

            Rumors spread throughout the steamer, as rumors always will.

"Did you hear? Nobody survived!"

"The Plant crew was torn apart!"

"It couldn't have just been wolves!"

"Could it have been… him?"

"You mean, Vash the Stampede?"

"Why not?  It's not like he's above killing an entire town!"

"Yeah, he's done it before!"

"But I thought no bullets were fired?"

"Who says he needs bullets?"

"Yeah, you're right.  Must have been him."

"Just when we thought he was gone."

            Jeremiah stood out in the hallway in front of Millie and Meryl's room, drink in hand.  Nikki came out and closed the door.  "Well, now that she's done yelling at us for worrying too much, I think she'll be fine."

Jeremiah nodded.  "I thought so."  They turned and walked down the hallway towards the stairs.  "I got a lead on your dad."

"I know, Evans told me."

"We can't go with our moms.  You know that right?"

"I know, it's too dangerous.  If Calamity hadn't been there, mom would've died."

"I heard.  We can't let them come along any more."

Nikki nodded. "I suppose we knew that all along.  Otherwise, would we have left?  And now that Knives…"   

"Hey guys! You doin' okay?" Mariah said.

"Huh?  Oh, hi Mariah," Nikki said.

"We're okay," Jeremiah added.

"Good.  Your ma' okay?"

"She's fine.  Listen… Mariah, we're leaving tomorrow.  Early tomorrow. Without them."

"Wha?"

"We can't tell you why, but if our moms ask where we went.  Just tell them that we said 'We'll find him'."

"Are you sure?  I think you should just tell 'em yourselves.  If ya can't trust your family who can ya trust?" she put her hands on her hips.

"Just tell her, okay?" Jeremiah said.

"If your sure." Mariah said, heading to the crew's quarters.

"Yeah, we're sure."

            Five moons went down, two suns began their assent.  They inched over the horizon, the first ray hitting the mass grave that was Tonim, bringing the carnage into sharp relief.  A door opened on the sand steamer and two figures crawled out, one carrying a cross.  They scrambled down the ladder and jumped to the sand.

"Let's see if we can find a car.  I don't know if I want to walk all that way."

Jeremiah nodded.  "Agreed."

Their search for a car was successful, but their search for keys didn't go so well.

"Are you sure they're not in the glove compartment?" Jeremiah asked.

"I'm sure, I checked like five times!" Nikki said.

"Going somewhere?"

Nikki and Jeremiah wheeled around.  Evans and Calamity stood there, staring at them. Calamity had finally gotten her coat back from Evans and was fingering something in the pocket.  Evans took a puff on his cigar.

"Well, we were…" Nikki began.

            Calamity walked over to the car and pulled a knife out of her pocket.  She opened the door and fooled around with the ignition for a minute.  She stepped back and let them see her work.  She pointed at a pair of exposed wires.  "Cross them to start it."

Nikki and Jeremiah stared at them for a minute. 

"Good luck," Evans said.

Nikki hopped in the driver's seat and crossed the wires.  The engine sprang to life.  Jeremiah shoved the cross into the back and took his place beside Nikki.

"Thanks guys," he said.

The nodded.  "Sure sure.  Get out of here," Evans said.

"See you later," Calamity added.

Nikki hit the gas and the car speed out into the desert.  Evans and Calamity stood there for a while, watching them leave.

"You gonna let me go now?"

Evans smirked.  "We'll see."

Wolfwood: I have killed before.  I'm not ashamed to admit it.  I am who I am and I cannot change that.  I'm ashamed that I did it though.  I always had the best intentions in mind, but does that really justify what I did?  Who knows, but what about those who kill with less then honorable intentions?  They're pretty damn common on Gunsmoke, believe me.    Or even more frightening, what about those who kill with no intentions at all?  To them, death is just some form of cheap amusement.  I met a man like that, and it scared the hell out of me.  Next chapter: Bladestorm.


	8. Bladestorm

I don't own Trigun or any of its characters.  Blah blah blah.

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"HEY! WHERE ARE OUR FRIES?"

The waiter shook his head.  Weren't priests supposed to be nice and well mannered?  Especially older ones?  This guy had gray streaking through his otherwise black hair, wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, and the conservative dress of a good priest.  Except for the black collar.  That was kind of weird.  So was the cross-thing he had propped up against the wall behind him.

"Coming up sir!" the waiter said.  He picked up the platter of French fries and slid it in front of the obnoxious priest and his spiky-haired young friend.  At least, he hoped it was his friend.  He had heard things about some priests… Nah, not this guy.

Vash grabbed a bottle on the table, turned it over, and started pounding on the bottom.  He unscrewed the lid and poured it out on the fries. He put the bottle back on the table and screwed the lid back on.  Wolfwood put his chin in his hand and stared at Vash, who was already inhaling the fries. 

Eventually, Vash realized that Wolfwood was staring at him, and stopped eating.  He looked down at the fries, then grinned nervously.  "Did you happen to want ketchup on your fries?"

"Luckily for you, yes I did." He reached across the table and smacked Vash in the side of the head.  "But next time, ask."  He reached down and grabbed a fry, his chin still in his hand.  He surveyed the semi-seedy bar they had stopped in, the broken glass, the cigarette butts littering the floor, and the green-eyed cat sleeping on the bar.  He caught his reflection in the mirror.

"It's just not fair."

"What's not fair?"

Wolfwood pointed to his hair.  "This."  He pointed to the wrinkles under his eyes. "And this."  He shook his head.  "Why?  Why did I come back like this?"

"Hey, don't complain, most people don't get to come back at all."

"Yeah I know.  I'm still trying to cope with the coming back to life part."

Vash swallowed a fry.  "How?"

"By ignoring it for the time being." Wolfwood shook his now grizzled head.  "I figure I can cope with it one step at a time, starting with the old thing.  Which, as I said, doesn't seem fair."

"Again, how so?"

"Because all the memories I have are of being in my twenties.  In fact, for all intents and purposes my mind is the mind of a man in his late twenties.  I find myself in the body of a man in his late forties, which shouldn't even seem possible."

He reached down and grabbed a French fry.  "I mean, like say if we ran into Millie while we were looking for your brother.  Could she still love me?  Could I still love her?  I may physically look older, but mentally I'm the person she fell in love with twenty-one years ago.  That's a long time Vash.  Maybe not for you, but it's a long time for us humans.  Who's to say that I'm still what she wants now?  Who's to say that I'll still want her?"  He bit into the fry.

"And then there's this son thing.  He never had a father before in his life, just a father figure in you.  Now he's got one, but a father who's only really had about six or seven more years experience than he does.  How do I confront this kid anyway? Geeze it's all so confusing."  He pulled a cigarette from his jacket, along with a match.  "I mean, from my point of view, I'm going to end up living twenty-years less than a normal person, assuming I die of old age."

"You were probably going to do that anyway." Vash muttered, as Wolfwood lit the cigarette and took a long drag.

Wolfwood breathed out the smoke.  "What was that?"

"Nothing."

"I mean, you get what I'm saying, don't you Vash?  No, I don't suppose you would.  You don't age at all.  It's been twenty-one years and you look the same as the day I died.  'Cept for your hair." He pointed at the ever-growing patch of black on Vash's formerly blonde hair.

Vash touched the growing black patch reflexively.  Damn, he had noticed.  Well, how could he not?  It was getting pretty damn obvious these days.  "Maybe I should start dyeing it." Vash thought.

"Hey!  Vash!  Are you even listening to me?"

Vash shook his head rapidly.   "Wha- what?"

Wolfwood chuckled.  "And I thought I was self-conscious about my hair."  He took a fry from the plate.  "We need more ketchup."

            "Why are you still following me?"

"I'm not following you, we just happen to be going in the same direction, that's all."

Evans snorted.  After he had heard that it was his old detachment coming in to investigate, he had decided to leave before he had to deal with his old captain.  "Smirking jackass," Evans thought, "he doesn't really care about my little one night stand.  I'm hardly the first to ride that bike."

"What's wrong?  You look annoyed," Calamity said.  Evans had let her go when he left, but she had been traveling in the same direction as him for a while now. 

"Maybe I'm annoyed because you're following me," Evans responded.

Calamity rushed in front of Evans and turned around, staring at his face as she walked backwards.  "No, it's not just me.  If it was just me, you would've been started looking annoyed a while ago." She turned her head on its side.  "Does this have anything to do with why you left without waiting for the rest of the Cavalry?"

"Don't ask."

"Maybe it has something to do with why you're on bounty duty? I hear that's like the worst it gets for Cavalry, duty-wise."

"Shut up Calamity."

Calamity tilted her head to the side.  "Well, aren't you having a bad day?"

"HEY LEUTIENANT! CLARISSA!"

Calamity stopped short, Evans, unable to slow down quick enough, banged into her.  They fell over and rolled down a dune, landing side by side at the bottom. 

"That's who I think it is, right?"

"Who else would call me Clarissa?"

"You two need help?" Meryl called down from the top of the dune.

            "There we go," Wolfwood said as he loaded the last cartridge into his cross.  "As good as new."

"It better be.  I spent every double dollar I had buying ammunition for that stupid thing.  How are we going to eat?" Vash said.  He shook his head.

Wolfwood swung the Cross Punisher up onto his shoulder and they started walking off.  "People always need to have their sins lifted from them." He clapped his hands together as if praying.  "I will happily take up my role as a priest again and listen to their burdens.  For a fee of course."

Vash raised an eyebrow.  "How are you going to do that without your church-box-thing?"

"It's a confessional, and I don't need it, for the will of God is everywhere."

"You'd think dying would have made you a better priest."

"Whoa, below the belt Vash."

They walked into the town square, surrounded by a bank, a bar, a bordello, and a bed house.  The bar's windows were smashed, letting anyone who wanted one a view of the chaos within.  Tables were snapped, bottles were crushed, and people lay all over, either dead or unconscious.  Probably dead.  Most people need all their blood in their systems.  The only peaceful thing was a poncho wearing form sitting against the bar.  A black Stetson was pushed down in front of his eyes, and he appeared to be sleeping.

Vash and Wolfwood looked in with curiosity.  "Must've been some hell of a bar fight," Wolfwood said, "I wonder what happened."

The poncho moved and a voice came from within the hat.  "Knives."

At the sound of that word, the cigarette fell from Wolfwood's mouth.

"He, he did this?" Vash asked.

"No no no," the drunk said, unfolding himself from the floor.  His hazel eyes twinkled, laughing at some inner joke of their own.  A scar ran perpendicular to his face, from the corner of his mouth to the creases of his right eye.  "Not Knives." He flicked his wrist and three blades appeared in his hand.  He pointed them at Vash and Wolfwood.  "I meant _knives_." His arm drew back and shot forward with blinding speed.  Vash and Wolfwood didn't even flinch as the knives flew past their faces and embedded themselves in a support post.

Vash's hand strayed towards the butt of his gun.  "Who are you?  How do you know about Knives?"

The man with the poncho chuckled.  "I'm just a messenger.  Knives and Legato send their regards, and apologize that they couldn't make it here personally."

Wolfwood lit another cigarette.  "Legato's dead pal."

The man in the poncho smirked.  "So are you padre. So is Martinez.  An awful lot of corpses are walking Gunsmoke, wouldn't you say?"  The man picked up a glass from the table.  It seemed to be the only intact one in the entire place.  "The master was mightily pissed when he learned that you had regained control.  Yes he was.  You were to be the piece de resistance of Vash's suffering.  Having to fight, and even kill his old friend.  He waited 'til the last to do it too.  Didn't want to blow his cover, ya see."  The man shook his head.  "It's a shame Julius fucked it up so badly.  That would've been fun to watch.  As it is, no more Julius."

"What a damn shame," Wolfwood said, "Do you happen to know why I was brought back looking like this?"

The man shrugged. "To be honest I wasn't really paying attention when Julius explained it to me."

"Great," Wolfwood said.

"Of course, his anger then was nothing compared to his anger with you Vash.  With Julius, it had been quiet and controlled.  But when he found out about you!  Wow."

Vash looked puzzled.  "Found out about me what?"

The man chugged the rest of his drink and slammed the glass down on the bar.  "That's exactly my message to you, Vash the Stampede.  Pain. Pain for your abomination."

Vash screwed his face up, trying to figure out what the hell this meant.

Wolfwood took another drag on his cigarette.  "If you're just a messenger, why all this?"

The man shrugged.  "I got bored waiting for you guys to show up."  He looked at his watch.  "In fact, I've still got to wait for my ride, and I don't see why I can't have some fun while I wait." 

The man in the poncho bowed.  "Johnny the Bladestorm's the name.  Let's play."  He straightened up and flung his arm out.  Two daggers whistled through the air towards Vash and Wolfwood.  They threw themselves to the side. 

Vash rolled and came up holding his gun.  "I thought Knives didn't want me dead!"

"Who says I'm trying to kill you?" Johnny shouted back.

Vash turned to Wolfwood, who was clutching his cross.  "I thought you said Knives had only _two _more Gung-Ho Guns!"

Wolfwood shrugged, and started unwrapping his cross.  "Maybe he went on some kind of recruiting drive!"

Johnny's voice floated in through the window.  "C'mon out gentlemen!  It's no fun if you stay out there!"   Five more knives came flying out.  Vash turned and fired into the window.  Johnny was good though.  He flipped to the side, spinning in mid-air, letting dagger after dagger fly. 

Vash darted back behind the wall, just avoiding a _very_ close haircut.  "Where does he find these guys?"

Wolfwood turned into the window and fired off a couple of rounds in Johnny's direction, again missing.  "I dunno, he's your brother!"

"Yeah, but you worked for him!"

"You're the outlaw!"

"Well you're the prie… wait a minute, what?"

"Actually, he put an ad in the local paper."

They looked up. Johnny was standing on the roof of the bar.  His arms pumped and two knives came speeding down towards Vash and Wolfwood.  Vash raised his gun and shot both of them off course.  They jumped up and ran towards the better cover of the fountain.

"How many knives can this guy be carrying?"

"Why don't you ask him?"

Johnny jumped down from the roof and yanked seven his daggers out from the support posts.  A flick of his wrists and they were gone again.  Vash dove towards the fountain.  While he dove, he twisted his body around and fired his remaining four bullets at the daggers, knocking off four of them.  The other three sped towards Wolfwood, who blocked them with his cross. 

"Damn, that's gonna leave a dent," Wolfwood said as he dived by Vash.  He turned around and fired at Johnny, forcing him to hide behind the posts. 

"He can't kill us, we can't kill him.  We got ourselves a stand-off." Wolfwood said as he ducked behind the fountain.

"Since when have you had qualms about killing people?" Vash asked.

"Sixth commandment, my friend."

Vash counted off on his fingers.  "Thou shalt not… ah."  He snapped open his revolver and slid six bullets into it.  "Maybe you aren't such a bad priest after all."

"I guess I'll take that as a complement!" Wolfwood said as he flipped his cross over. 

Vash looked at him, aghast.  "I thought you weren't going to kill anymore!"

Wolfwood nodded.  "I'm not.  I never said anything about property destruction."

            Evans, Millie, Calamity, and Meryl sat around a blazing fire.  They had all removed their coats while warming themselves by the fire; it was too hot with the coats and the fire combined.  Plus, Calamity had said that her coat should be nowhere near fire.

"Mmm, nothing like a good meal cooked over an open fire!" Millie said, removing the cooking skewers.

Evans looked up.  "Is it a small desert creature?"

Meryl looked at him questioningly.  "No, why?"

"No reason.  I'll have some."

Millie passed around the rations and they dug in. 

"Not bad," Evans said through a mouth of food. 

Meryl smacked him over the head.  "Don't talk with your mouth full."

Evans swallowed his food.  "You really are Nikki's mother."  He bolted down the rest of his food and reached into his vest.  He pulled out a cigar case and removed a cigar.  He lit in the fire.

Meryl scowled.  "Do you really have to smoke?"

"Oh let it go Meryl, there's nothing really wrong with smoking out here.  It'll drift away." Millie said.

Meryl was about to say something, then decided against it.  Talking any more about smoking might bring memories of Wolfwood back.  Poor woman, she hadn't even gotten a chance to visit his defiled grave before Jeremiah had run off again.  She laid down her food and put her head in her hands.  Why were they always running off?  They just had too much of their fathers in them.  Didn't they see how much that hurt the ones that loved them?

Calamity was still bolting down her food.  Her hand stopped in front her mouth. "Someone's out there.  Several someones."

Raucous laughter came out from the darkness.  "Sounds like we've been found guys."  Twelve men walked from the shadows, all of them armed.  "That looks good, doesn't it guys?"  their leader said.

"Yeah boss!"

Evans looked up smirked, and went back to enjoying his cigar.  Calamity shrugged and went back to her food.  Meryl and Millie; however, found their hands straying towards their guns.

"I wouldn't do that ladies," the boss said, cocking his rifle.  "Now everyone get up off the ground and put your hands on your heads."

The small group just sat around the fire, smoking, eating, and looking at their weapons.

"What's wrong with you people?  Huh?" The leader ranted.  "We're pointing guns at your heads and you're ignoring us!"  He pointed at Evans, "You're not even looking at me!  Look at me Cavalry boy!"  He took aim with the rifle and shot the cigar out of Evans hand. 

"Ow!"  Evans shook his hand to get the stinging feeling out. 

"You guys really are intent on robbing us, aren't you?" Calamity said.

"Have you not been paying attention to a word we've been saying?"

The small group stood up.  Evans reached inside his vest. 

_Click_.  "Watch it Cavalry boy!"

Evans held his hand up and pulled out his cigar case.  He selected a cigar, cut off the end, and lit it with his lighter.

Meryl shrugged.  "You leave us with no choice then."

The leader grinned wickedly.  That cute red head might make for some fun later tonight.

Calamity nodded.  "We'll just have to beat the crap out of all of you."

            Vash and Wolfwood stood behind two buildings on opposite sides of the street.

"Where on Gunsmoke is that guy keeping all those knives?"  Vash gasped.

"Better question, where is he?" Wolfwood panted.  "Fighting this guy is like fighting you Vash!"

"We're completely different!"

"Not so.  You're both really fast, really accurate; you've both got eyes for motion detection.  It's really like fighting you.  'Cept he uses knives and is a homicidal psycho."

"Which brings me back to my first question, where is he keeping all of them?"

Two daggers came flying from the other end of the street.  Vash turned and shot the knife flying towards Wolfwood, but couldn't get his gun around quick enough to shot the other one.  It hit the gun, sending it flying into the street.

"Tch, for someone whose not supposed to kill us, he's coming awfully close."  Vash said.  His left sleeve ripped open and his hand unhinged itself, making room for a nasty looking gun that slid out of his wrist. 

Vash and Wolfwood and dashed out into the street, firing behind them at the ponchoed form that was now standing at the end of the street.

Johnny darted to the left, rolled the right, ran towards a wall, and jumped off against it.  His hands darted into his poncho and came out with more knives.

Vash and Wolfwood down the street, pacing each other perfectly.  Vash leaned down and scooped up his Long Colt.  He turned around and fired at Johnny, who dove out of the way.  Vash and Wolfwood hit another intersection, hung a sharp right and ran away. 

Johnny stood up and brushed himself off.  A door opened behind him.  A man looked out.  "Hey buddy, what's going on?"

Johnny chuckled.  His hand shot out and a knife appeared to grow from the man's throat.  "Nothin' you need to worry about.  Well, not anymore."  He ran off after Vash and Wolfwood.

Up on the rooftop, a predator lurked.  He had already fed for the night, and he didn't even have to do any work for it.  Johnny had done it for him.  He should have stopped this long ago, but it was really interesting.  He pulled out a pocket watch and checked the time.  Well… he'd let it go on for ten more minutes, max.  Any longer than that and Knives would start getting suspicious.  Martinez shivered.  He had been walking the night for a _long_ time, and only a couple things really scared him.  The thing that scared him the most these days wasn't crosses, the sun, garlic, or wooden stakes.  It was staring into Knives' eyes, and getting the impression that _he_ might be the prey one day.

"I know you hate humans, but I ain't no human. 

            The banditos' jaws dropped.  Were these guys serious?  They were outnumbered, outgunned, and surrounded. 

"I'd like to see that, Cavalry boy," the boss said, approaching Evans until there was about seven inches of space between their noses. 

Evans chuckled, his intentions hidden behind a pair of reflective sunglasses.  He took the cigar out his mouth and blew a puff of smoke in the boss' face.  Then he slammed the cigar down on the boss' exposed arm. The sound of sizzling flesh filled the air, sounding frighteningly like the sound of sizzling bacon. 

"AHHHHHHH!" The boss screamed in pain.  So caught up was the boss in his pain that he didn't notice that Evans' had dropped the cigar and had now punched him in the solar plexus.  The only indication the boss had was the air suddenly rushed from his lungs and he was now gasping for oxygen.   Evans ripped the rifle from his hands, the smacked him across the face with the butt of it.

While he was doing this, Calamity's hand shot down to the side pockets on her cargo pants.  They came out two small gray disks each.  Her hands shot out in front of her and the discs flew gracefully towards the banditos, adhering to their skin on impact.

The banditos looked at the strange discs, but only for a second.  Electricity arced from disk to disk, causing the banditos to convulse, their hair standing on end.

Meryl dove for her coat, coming up with a derringer in each hand. She took aim and squeezed the triggers, hoping that her aim hadn't deteriorated behind a desk.

It hadn't.  Meryl dropped the derringers and went for two new ones.

Millie had reacted just as quickly as everyone else, but she had to take off the safety on her gun.  "This…safety's…stuck!"  Suddenly a bolt flew from the barrel and slammed into a bandito.  "There we go!" she said, turning to another bandito.

Evans finished with the boss and turned to the remaining four banditos.  _Ka-Chunk!_  Remaining three banditos.  One of the banditos finally got over his shock and raised his rifle at Evans, the others followed suit.  The took aim and…

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

There's something amazing about the sound of a sword being pulled from a sheath.  It's quiet, but it's an attention grabber, no mistake.  It says, "I just pulled out something sharp that can remove the internal organ of your choice."

_Schink!_

_Clang! Clang! Clang!_

"Not fast enough boys," Evans said as he dashed towards the banditos.  He clouted the middle one with his sword, and used the momentum to spin around and elbow the left one in the gut.  They both knelt on the ground in pain.  Evans stuck his sword in the sand, and knocked their head together.

The remaining armed bandito's Adam's apple rose and fell.  Dark stains appeared on his shirt. However, being a master survivor, he dropped his gun.  "I'm sure that no more violence is needed," he spurted. 

His companions, the conscious ones anyway, nodded their head in agreement.

A thought struck Meryl.  "You guys wouldn't happen to have a car or something around here, would you?"

The banditos glanced at each other.

"We can't tell 'em."

"The boss wouldn't like it!"

"Yeah, he'd be real mad!"

Calamity knelt down and started to rifle through her coat.  "Now where did I put my tasers?"

"We got a truck, it's right over here!" A bandito said, pointing over his shoulder.

Evans turned to Calamity.  "You know, you're starting to grow on me."

            Vash turned another corner; then threw himself against the wall.  Wolfwood quickly followed suit.

"We have to get away from the town," Vash said, "Before this guy kills anymore people just for the hell of it!"

Wolfwood nodded.  "Yeah."  He pointed to the bus.  "Got any cash left at all?"

Vash shook his head.  "I'm out."

"So much for that idea."

Two daggers grew from the wall between them.  "Does this guy ever get tired?" Wolfwood said.  He looked around.  "Hey, the red-eye steamer's about to leave!"

"Your point?"

"Tell 'em that you're the Stampede, maybe they'll let us on if we act as guards!" Wolfwood grabbed Vash and dragged him along the street. 

"But I don't like to capitalize on my name like that!  Besides, last time I did that the steamer got hijacked!"

"Too bad Needle noggin!" Wolfwood shouted, dragging Vash by his spiky hair.

Johnny the Bladestorm stood in the shadows, the wind blowing his poncho back. A shadow within in the shadows fell down from a rooftop, then rose behind Johnny.  It resolved itself into a pale man with close-cropped brown hair, green eyes, and a closed brown coat. 

"That's enough Johnny," Martinez said.

Johnny chuckled.  "Spoil-sport."

Martinez put his hands behind his back and shrugged his shoulders.  "I know.  But do you really want Legato angry at you?  Don't think he won't hesitate to kill you.  You're just another parasite, albeit a very useful one."

"Of course I am.  I never claimed to be anything more.  Let's go."

They retreated into the shadows. 

"If we're parasites, what are you Martinez?"

"A parasite's parasite."

Johnny chuckled and spun a knife in his hand.

########################################################################

Calamity: I grew up without anyone.  My teachers were in the schools of hard knocks and pain.  My brothers and sisters were other urchins. Competition for any food we could get our hands on.  No parents, no friends, nothing.  My models were the more successful thieves and outlaws, those who got what they wanted.  Now I am one. A model for future outlaws?  Do I really want little kids growing up to be like me?  Should anyone want kids growing up to a model?  Next Chapter: The Wild Bunch


	9. The Wild Bunch

* * *

Insert usual disclaimer crap here. 

########################################################################

Christmas City 

The patrons of the _Low-slung Gun _were used to unusual people coming in. They were themselves considered unusual people. Normal people weren't an oddity either. It's just they weren't considered patrons so much as "meal tickets".

A red-jacketed, shorthaired woman walked in one day. An enterprising patron appraised her. His first thought was "Money walkin'". His second though was "Nice. Maybe I can get into her skirt as well as her wallet." He sauntered up to the bar, which the woman was leaning against.

"Wild Turkey please," the woman said.

"Let me get that for you sugar," the patron said.

The woman pushed her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose and glared at the man. "Thanks, but I can pay for it."

"Nah, I insist."

"I said I've got it. Why don't you go back to your seat?"

The more experienced patrons had noticed the faint bulges on the side of the woman's jacket long ago and became very interested in their drinks. The barman, who had worked the _Low-slung Gun_ for many years, slowly backed away from the fight he knew was coming. He turned and searched for the Wild Turkey bottle.

A shadow filled the doorway, and one of the tallest men the patron had ever seen entered the bar. He was at least 6'8", more like 6'9". The six-foot cross-shaped object slung over his back only added to his imposing presence, despite his skinny build. He walked over to the bar and swung the cross off his back, leaning it against the bar. Straightening his tie, he pointed at the woman. "I'll have what she's having."

The other patrons suddenly became even more interested in their drinks, if such a thing was possible. Those without drinks started analyzing the molecular structure of the tables. The barman nodded and brought out two glasses and a bottle of Wild Turkey. He filled the glasses to the brim and left the bottle on the bar.

The enterprising patron was either too drunk, too naïve, or just too stupid to notice. "I'll pay for this one Rudy," the patron said, tossing some double dollars on the bar. "I'll even pay for the tall guy, 'cause I'm such a nice guy. Ain't that right sweetie?" He smacked her on the butt. The tall man winced into his drink.

The woman appeared not to notice and raised her glass to her lips. The patron blinked and found himself looking down the barrel of a red Long Colt. This way of viewing the Long Colt is not recommended for those with heart conditions. The woman continued drinking and pulled the trigger.

_Click._

She pulled the trigger again.

_Click._

_Click._

_Click._

_Click._

_Click._

She finished her drink, placed it on the bar; then returned the gun to its holster as if nothing had happened. The man looked at the pair again, recalculating which of the two was more dangerous. His mind broke down and he returned to his seat.

The woman turned around and leaned on the bar. "Seen anyone goofy looking around here lately?"

The barman surveyed the patrons, who were the defining work in goofy looking. He cleared his throat. "Three double dollars please."

"He would've had spiky blonde hair, except for a black patch somewhere around his temple. Would've looked kinda like me. Seen him?"

The tall man reached into his pocket and pulled out a ten double dollar bill. He slapped it on the bar. "Keep the change," he said.

The barman sucked his breath in through his teeth and contemplated the ceiling fan for a while. "Hmmmm, not sure if I remember." He stroked his chin.

The tall man reached into his pocket again and pulled out a twenty. He placed it on top of the ten. "Keep the change."

"Three days ago, this spiky haired idiot comes in here, gets roaring drunk. Didn't take that much to put him under though."

The tall man and the woman hung their heads. "What is it about him and alcohol?" the tall man said.

The woman shook her head. "Did he happen to say where he was going?" she asked.

The barman nodded. "Yeah, he said he was heading west. Hoping to eventually get to Jenora Rock. He was about to say why when he passed out and another guy had to drag him to the hotel."

"Jenora Rock? Thanks." The tall man said, swinging the cross up onto his back. They turned and walked out the bar. The woman stopped at the door and turned around.

"Just for the record, that is the most watered down Wild Turkey I've had in a while." She turned and followed her friend out of the bar. They stepped out into the street and turned towards the town square.

"How did you know he was going to go in there?" Jeremiah asked eventually.

"I didn't, it was a random guess." Nikki answered.

"And if it hadn't been the right one?"

"We would've tried another one."

"How did you know he'd be in a bar?"

"Dad likes to drink. What can I say?" A black cat sleeping in the shade of a cart caught Nikki's attention. "Well aren't you the cutest little fuzzy wuzzy!" Nikki squealed. She picked up the cat and started scratching his belly.

The cat looked up at Nikki quizzically. "Nya?" it said.

Jeremiah clapped a hand to his forehead. This could take a while. "How do you know that cat isn't rabid?" he asked.

"This little fuzzy face? He's too cute to be rabid!" Nikki said, squeezing the cat.

"You are really, really, really helpless around animals. You know that right?"

Nikki ignored him and continued to pet the cat.

"Yeah. I'm going to church. Meet me at the hotel in three hours okay?"

Nikki nodded and started scratching the cat under the chin. Jeremiah wandered off, leaving Nikki to play with the cat. After about ten minutes of cuddling the kitty, Nikki let him go. Now what?

An old musician's store caught her eye. _How long has it been?_ She thought. She walked across the dusty street and pushed the door open. The place was packed with instruments, sheet music, anything for the budding musician. She ran a hand over a guitar rack. She stopped at a particularly fine guitar.

"Can I help you miss?" a voice said behind her. Nikki turned around. An old man stood there, his shoulders hunched after years of fixing and making instruments. Genetics had given him dark skin, but he had spent so much time inside working on his instruments, it had grown relatively pale. His spectacles were perched precariously on his nose, somehow defying the laws of gravity just staying there. He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh. . . Er. . . I was just looking at this guitar." Nikki stammered. She pointed in what she hoped was the direction of the guitar she had been looking at before.

"Mmm, good choice, miss. Good choice indeed. You play?"

". . .Haven't for a while now. Can I try?"

"Certainly." With reverential care, he lifted the guitar from its stand and handed it to Nikki. "Guitar pick miss? I think I've got one back on the counter."

"No, I prefer to use my fingers if that's all right with you." Nikki said, handing the guitar back to the man. She pulled her gloves off and stuffed them into one of her jacket pockets.

"That's good to hear. Yes, that's very good to hear. A musician should always be feeling their instrument if they can. Feel the soul of the instrument," the man said as he handed the guitar back to Nikki.

Nikki nodded and positioned her hands on the guitar. She plucked out a few notes at random, then settled on a melody. One she hadn't played in four years.

_

* * *

_

_4 years ago_

Nikki sat on a bench, her leg bound up. The doctors had said she would be able to walk fine any day now. She sighed; it hadn't taken long before she had gotten into trouble. All it took was one wrong comment at a bar. Her fingers ran over the guitar and she started playing, quietly humming along.

People passed by on the street, heads down, going wherever they had planned that day with not a thought to anything else. A man's attention was caught by the 17-year old girl sitting on the bench with a bullet wound in her leg and a guitar in her hands. He stopped momentarily to listen to her. A woman saw the man watching the teen and stopped to see what was going on. Another person stopped, and another, and another. They all stopped to hear the young woman play. They looked around for an open hat or guitar case or anything, but the girl didn't have anything out. She wasn't looking for money; she didn't even seem to notice the people around her. She just played because she wanted to.

The song came to a dramatic finish, Nikki's fingers flying over the guitar stings faster than a bullet from a Long Colt. She plucked out the last note and let her breath out. A man in the back started clapping slowly and it spread through the rest of the crowd. Nikki looked up, surprised that she had drawn such an audience. Her first instinct was to stand and bow, but the tight bandage on her reminded her that she should probably stay down. She smiled and waved instead. The crowd clapped for a little while longer, then went about their way.

Except for the first man to clap. A grizzled old man with gray hair, some stubble, and a dirty apron over his clothes, he walked up to Nikki with his hands in his apron pockets.

"You've got fast hands," he said.

Nikki nodded. "They run in the family you might say."

The man yawned and stretched his arms out. He sat down on the bench next to Nikki. "So my assistant tells me. I can't say I ever saw it for myself though."

"Where is he anyway?"

"Somewhere called Tonim I think. Something about a special project."

"Tonim huh? Yeah, I think I know what he's doing," Nikki said, positioning her hands on the guitar again. She started on a new melody, a quieter one this time.

"How's your leg?" the man asked.

"Oh, I'll be alright. Should be up as good as new in two weeks."

"And then?"

Nikki stopped playing. "And then? And then I'm off again. Gotta keep looking. He's out there somewhere."

"And Jeremiah? What about him?"

Nikki shrugged. "I don't know why he left. He'll follow his own path, whatever that is."

The man nodded. "Gonna bring something with you for protection?"

"Protection?"

"Well, in case you get into another 'situation'." He indicated Nikki's bound leg. Nikki looked down at her leg and shrugged. "Tell me," the man said, "you know how to shoot a gun?" Nikki nodded. "Figured as much. How could you not?"

"Even if I do, I don't have the money for one. I barely have the money for my medical bills and bus fare."

The man smiled and stood up. "Got the strength to come with me? Or do you need me to carry you?"

Nikki looked up at him quizzically. "Huh?"

"Got a present for you."

* * *

Outside of Christmas City, the Wild Bunch waited. The Wild Bunch, the nastiest meanest gang of thieves to ever walk Gunsmoke, and, collectively, the holders of the fourth largest bounty in all of Gunsmoke. Twenty Billion Double Dollars. Pleasant sum of money no doubt, but not likely to get cashed. You'd have to get all of them to get it, and that wouldn't be easy. Some say it would be harder than going after Vash the Stampede, but then again, some say that Vash the Stampede is a misunderstood figure that never meant to hurt anybody.

Outside Christmas City, the twenty members of the Wild Bunch waited for the suns to fall and the moons to rise.

* * *

Jeremiah walked into the church and breathed in deeply. This turned out to be a mistake.

"Enough, cough cough, incense, cough cough, there Reverend?"

The priest took the match down from the incense burner. "Is it? I find it hard to tell these days. I must be getting old." He shook the match out. "Can I help you my son? Need anything in particular?"

Jeremiah shook his head. "It's just that it's Sunday, and I didn't want to miss mass."

"Of course young man. We're just starting so you can just take a seat."

Jeremiah thanked the man and headed down the aisle.

The project SEED crash and the resulting years on Gunsmoke had confused the already hazy subject of religion. Nowadays the major religions of Gunsmoke had incorporated the elements of all their branches. So Jeremiah wasn't a Protestant or Catholic exactly, but a little bit of Baptist, a little bit of Catholic a little bit of Episcopalian, and a little bit of Presbyterian. A little bit of everything. Gunsmoke religions are the mutts of the religious universe. Of course, the thing to remember is that mutts survive.

Jeremiah reached an open pew and slung his cross onto the floor. There was a loud "THUD" and Jeremiah winced. "Sorry about the dent in the floor Reverend!" He called back.

"Yes, the incense isn't so bad there, I know!" The priest called back.

Jeremiah raised his eyebrows. "Oooookay. I'll just leave some money in the collection box then." He slid into a pew just as the service started.

"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy Name. Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation. . ."

A shadow fell over Jeremiah. "But deliver us from evil."

"For thine is the kingdom, and the power and the glory," Jeremiah continued.

"For ever and ever," the shadow finished.

"Amen," they said together.

"Hello Father Danil," Jeremiah said.

Father Danil slid into the pew next to Jeremiah. Most would consider him a tall man, but few people seemed tall next to Jeremiah. He was dressed in a short black coat and black pants, with a white priest's collar sticking out of the jacket. His gray hair hadn't been washed in a while, but then again, neither had Jeremiah's.

"Still trying to save people?" Danil asked.

Jeremiah was silent.

* * *

_3 years earlier _

"So you see Jeremiah, that is why I had to kill her. She just would've gone on to commit even worse sins had I not," Father Danil said, walking into the desert.

Jeremiah grabbed his Cross Punisher and hefted it up onto his back. _ Damn!_ He thought. _This thing is heavy! I shouldn't have put so much stuff in it! How do people get used to them?_ He ran after Danil. "

Wait up Father!"

Father Danil ignored him and kept walking. "How do you plan to save people's souls if you cannot lift your own weapon Jeremiah?"

"Easy for you to say! You're just carrying around those pistols!" Jeremiah shouted after him, still struggling with his Cross Punisher.

Father Danil stopped short and let Jeremiah catch up with him. Jeremiah rushed up and stopped when he saw that Father Danil had no intention of moving. He indicated that Jeremiah should put his cross down. Jeremiah shoved the thing into the sand and stood back. Father Danil opened his jacket, revealing six crosses hanging to the sides by loops. He selected one and handed it to Jeremiah. Jeremiah took it and his hand dropped slightly, he hadn't expected the cross to be that heavy.

"Wow. I've never seen such a heavy hand gun."

Father Danil nodded, took the gun back from Jeremiah, and placed in back in its loop. "You know, your father would've said that that's because it's so full of mercy."

"Is it?"

Father Danil scoffed and turned back into the desert. "Mercy? Don't be ridiculous. It's so heavy because it's so full of bullets."

Jeremiah swung his cross back onto his shoulder and went after Father Danil. He had been following him for a month now. _Why won't he tell me about my father?_ Jeremiah thought. _Does he really know, or his just bullshitting me?_

"Mercy." Father Danil said. Jeremiah looked up. Danil usually didn't talk when they were traveling from town to town. "What a ludicrous concept. Show mercy to your enemy and they'll kill you when your guard's down. Show mercy to sinners, and they'll just sin again once your back is turned. They sin and they sin, until they can sin no more. It's better to stop them now. Before their souls can be truly damned."

* * *

"Still trying to save souls, Jeremiah? Still preaching redemption?"

"I'm no preacher Father Danil," Jeremiah responded.

"Is that why you're traveling around with that girl, are you trying to save her? Hers is the ultimate sin. She cannot be saved, why do you even try?"

"Everyone deserves a chance. And who said being born was a sin?"

"It isn't, for humans. But for her. . ."

"Please leave Father Danil."

Father Danil looked hurt. "How could you say that Jeremiah? It's been so long since we've seen each other."

Jeremiah closed his eyes and clasped his hands again. "Please leave Father Danil, before I'm forced to beat the crap out of someone in a house of God."

Father Danil smirked, stood up, crossed himself, and left the church. "May God be with you, young one."

* * *

The leader of the Wild Bunch was a man named Ronald MacKenzie. People had tried to give him nicknames before, but he just seemed to shrug them all off. Nothing really seemed to describe him accurately. Some might say that he was the walking embodiment of normalcy.

"Guns ready boys?" he called out. A chorus of shouts answered him. "That's great. We can't let the party start without the guests of honor, now can we?"

* * *

Nikki stopped playing and sighed. Amazing, that she could still play. It had been too long.

The old man started clapping. "Very good miss. You've got talent. Now, uhhh, are you going to buy that guitar?"

Nikki looked surprised. "Buy? Er, I'm sorry but I really don't have the money. I can barely afford to eat these days. It's just that I haven't played in a while. I was curious to see if I could."

The old man shook his head sadly as he took the guitar away from Nikki and returned it to the rack. "That's too bad, you're good. Why did you stop?"

* * *

_4 years earlier_

Nikki settled into the bus chair, the weight of the Long Colts in her jacket still new to her. New, but comforting in some small way. She had been surprised how well she had adapted to using the Long Colts. Two of them even. They had a kick on them like a crazed Thomas.

Nikki sighed and stretched out into the second chair. _Hope no one wants to sit here,_ she thought. Too bad Jeremiah wasn't back yet, she had wanted to say good-bye again. Oh well, life goes on, and she had to keep searching. Her foot started tapping against the chair to a beat in her head. Now where was her guitar?

"SHIT" Nikki yelled, sitting up straight. The rest of the bus stared at her. "What?" Nikki said, "It's nothing, never mind." She slumped back down onto the seat. _Damnit!_ _How could I leave it back with Mr. Marlon! How freaking' stupid of me! What the hell were you thinking Nikki! Dumb dumb dumb!_ She hit her head on the window. How could she be so dumb?

* * *

"I, I just did. It's kind of a long story."

"Too bad. You got music in your soul. I can see it. 'Bout the only thing I can see these days." He rubbed his chin. "You like this guitar?"

Nikki nodded. "Best one I've seen in a while."

"You'd like it, yes?"

"I dunno. It wouldn't be easy to carry around everywhere."

"You said you were broke miss. Maybe you can make some money that way. Tell you what; I'll let you use this guitar for the celebration tonight. Play something real good for the crowd. Something real soulful, something to light the crowd on fire. Play again like you mean it, and then we'll see if you're still interested. Hmmm?"

"Festival, tonight? What festival?"

"It's Arrival Day miss. Yes, it's Arrival Day!"

"Arrival Day? Only a week before. . ." Nikki looked at the guitar again. "I don't suppose it could hurt to try, could it?"

"Of course not, of course not. It never hurts to try does it? If you don't try, you don't know!" The instrument maker said as he took guitar back down from the rack. He pushed it into Nikki's hands. "Here, take this. Go and practice, come up with a good song, something to. . ."

"Light the crowd on fire. I know." Nikki said, walking out of the music shop with the guitar.

* * *

Jeremiah pushed the hotel room door open and found a sight he hadn't seen in years. Nikki, sitting on a bed, practicing the guitar.

"I thought you quit," Jeremiah said."

"Not so much quit as. . . took a break."

"And now?"

"This old instrument maker wants me to play at the Arrival Day Festival tonight. I said okay but now," she stopped playing, "I'm having second thoughts. It's been too long since I last played, I'm not going to remember up on stage."

Jeremiah put his Cross Punisher down in a corner and picked up their canteen. He took a long swig. "Well it's too bad that you feel that way," he said, taking another swig. "Because I've decided that you'll play anyway."

"What? You've decided?"

"Yep," Jeremiah said, putting the canteen back. "I've unilaterally decided that you're going to play in this festival whether you like it or not."

"Is this going to be like the time you 'decided' that I should wear less red?" Nikki said, pointing a finger at Jeremiah.

"Nope, I promise."

"And why will this be different?"

"Well for starters, I'm twenty-one instead of seven. Additionally, nothing will be destroyed as a result of this."

Nikki started plucking notes from the strings again. "Well, if _you've_ decided, I guess I just have to."

Jeremiah nodded, seemingly oblivious to Nikki's sarcasm. "Good. Well now that that's settled, I'm going to get some food."

"Get me some. . ."

"Nope, no doughnuts for you Nikki."

"Why not?"

Jeremiah pointed at her hands. "The sugar. Gets all over your hands. Wouldn't want to mess this nice guitar up, would we?"

* * *

"Can I drive?"

"No."

"How about now?"

"No."

"Now?"

"Calamity, how old are you again?"

"Twenty."

"Then why are you acting like a six-year old?"

Calamity sat back into her seat, pouting. She didn't have to travel with these losers. She was Calamity Shriver daughter of Vash the. . . Okay, that one wasn't going to work anymore was it? Now that she had met the real daughter of Vash the Stampede.

She looked over to Evans, who appeared to be sleeping. Not that you could tell under those sunglasses. Calamity bit her lip, she was really curious to see what Evans' eyes looked like under them. She quietly snaked her hand out. . .

Evans hand shot up and grabbed her wrist. "As you know Calamity," he said, "I'm on bounty duty. That means I am required to go after any and all major wanted criminals I can find. If I back down from going after anyone, I could be court marshaled and maybe even dishonorably discharged. So I'm taking a risk not taking you in, but I made a promise I intend to keep. However, if you continue to annoy me like this, I might become so aggravated that I'll just forget my promise. It'll just slip my mind. Oh sure, I'll remember eventually, but you'll probably be in jail and it'll be too late. Then I'll just feel horrible about myself."

Calamity stuck her tongue out and Evans, crossed her arms, and sat back into the chair.

Millie twisted around the seat. "You have a memory problem too Lieutenant? You know what helps that? Gingko. Of course it's really expensive, I don't know if you could afford it on your salary. I could lend you some if you like!"

Meryl sighed and stuck her arm out the window. [_Only thirty more iles and we'll be in Christmas City, thirty more iles, thirty more iles_.]

* * *

"It's almost time for the party," one of the Wild Bunch said.

"Are you suggesting that we go now?" MacKenzie said. "Haven't you ever heard of being fashionably late? It won't be a real party if the guests of honor show up on time."

MacKenzie may have looked normal, but he was really anything but.

* * *

Jeremiah: Redemption, mercy, forgiveness. Precepts of the Faith. I'm no priest, maybe I'll be one someday, hell, I don't know. Not all priests follow the Faith. They follow a voice inside their heads, telling them to go out and save the flock from hell, to save the world. The question is, is that the voice of God, or the voice of the devil?

Next Chapter: Sinners.


	10. Sinners

Yep, It's Disclamer Time! Everyone's favorite part of the story! I don't own Trigun, the people mentioned way back in chapter one do!

############################################################################

Nikki peeked out around the curtain into the square. The place was packed. The entire town had come out to celebrate arrival day. The entire town would be listening to her play. Admittedly, most of them were drunk, but. . .

She turned around and shoved the guitar into the hands of the old music man. "Changed my mind, later." She said, dashing away from the stage.

"Oh no you're not," Jeremiah said, catching her in the crook of his arm. "C'mon, is this the same girl that entered the Bernadelli talent contest back when I was 12? The one we had to physically pull off the stage?"

Nikki struggled against Jeremiah's arm and tried to kick him in the shins. "Yeah, but I was in better practice then! Plus there's like a thousand people out there!"

"Stage fright? From Nikki Stryfe? What's the world coming to?"

Nikki stopped struggling. Panting, she pointed a finger accusingly at Jeremiah. "It's not stage fright! Never accuse me of stage fright!"

"It's okay miss! We all get stage fright from time to time! 'Specially if we haven't, yes, we haven't played in a while!" The old music maker tapped the guitar and smiled at Nikki.

Jeremiah pushed her back towards the stage. "They say that if you wear your sunglasses it helps."

Nikki raised an eyebrow questioningly at Jeremiah. "Wear my sunglasses? At ten o' clock at night? Do I look like Evans Braxler to you?" Nevertheless, she pulled the purple-lensed glasses out of a pocket on her jacket sleeve. She flipped them open and placed them in front of her eyes. "This is no good, I can't see a damn thing!" She pushed the sunglasses up to her forehead.

Jeremiah shrugged. "Go with whatever works."

"Easy for you to say, you aren't playing a goddamn note!" She turned and snatched the guitar from the music maker. "I'll show you stage fright." She marched out onto the stage, not daring to stop. She knew that if she stopped for one second, she'd lose her nerve.

"That worked well," the music maker said.

Jeremiah smiled and stuck his hands in his pockets. "She always does better when pushed."

* * *

"There is no way you can do that."

"Oh but I can Blayne."

Blayne pointed at a distant sandworm. "You're saying you could down that thing with one knife, even if it was charging right at you?"

Johnny nodded. "You bet I can sweetheart."

Blayne brushed back her hair and glared at Johnny. Her yellow-eyed glare was usually more than enough to ignite fear in any human. A deep fear, one which dated back to the days when man was nothing more than a hairless ape who managed to learn to bang a couple of rocks together. A fear in the darkness, a fear of fur, fangs, and claws.

This glare, however, had no affect on her superiors or her sole peer. Johnny just chuckled. "Bet you twenty double dollars I can do it!"

Blayne flicked her fan open. "You're on." She closed her eyes and sent her mind out to the sands. **Come to me. Come to your mistress**

A voice responded from the dark.** Kill?**

**No, not kill**

**Hunt?**

**Not hunt. Play.**

The shadows rose from the sands and surrounded the distant worm. The worm turned and thrashed as it sought to escape from the shadows, and found only one escape route, down the middle, towards the humans that stood on the dune.

Blayne smiled and started fanning herself. "There, you've got your worm. I do hope you can back up your words."

Johnny cracked his knuckles. "Bring it on."

A truck rolled into Christmas city and slowed to a halt in the middle of the street. The doors flew open and a small black cat shot out, followed by Millie, Meryl, Evans, and Calamity stepped out. Evans staggered around for a moment, then stretched his back. There was an audible cracking noise.

* * *

"Ahhh, that's better," he said.

"Where is everyone?" Calamity asked. She looked around and spotted the electric lights strung up around the town square. "Unless my eyes do deceive me, that's a party over there!"

Meryl screwed up her face. "A party?" she said, "why would they have a party today? What day is it?"

Millie counted on her fingers for a few seconds before she came to a number that seemed right. "It's. . . Arrival Day! Yeah, it's Arrival Day! My favorite holiday!"

Meryl stared at Millie. "I thought Christmas was your favorite holiday?"

Millie nodded. "That one too! And Halloween, and Easter and. . ." she trailed off as she listed every holiday on the calendar.

Evans stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned close to Calamity. "Jeremiah must've had a pretty good childhood. By the sounds of it he didn't go a day without a celebration."

Calamity nodded silently as she watched Meryl try to explain to Millie how a person can only have one favorite anything. It seemed to Calamity as if they had had this conversation many, many, many times.

Evans shrugged and wandered off to the celebration. Meryl stopped midway through her argument. "Hey! Where are you going Lieutenant?"

Evans stopped and turned around. "Well Miss Stryfe, I plan to head over to that party, get drunk, maybe find some female company, wake up the next morning with a hangover, and then I'll go see who else is on the Cavalry bounty list."

"That's your plan?" Meryl asked.

Evans nodded. Calamity reached back and undid the holders in her hair, letting it fall down her back. "Sounds good to me," she said. They walked off towards to square.

Meryl and Mille stared at the pair as they walked away. "Were we ever that young and impulsive Meryl?" Millie asked.

"I suppose we must have been, once. I certainly can't remember it." Meryl felt a tugging at her sleeve. She turned to see a young woman dressed in a Bernadelli Insurance Society uniform.

"Did that Cavalryman just call you Miss Stryfe?" the young girl asked.

Meryl nodded. "Yes, my name is Meryl Stryfe."

The young girl's eyes widened. She pointed a quavering finger at Millie. "Then, that would make her Millie Thompson, right?"

Millie nodded. "Yep, that's me!"

The young girl's breath quickened and her eyes widened even more. She turned to a cluster of similarly dressed girls and called out, "It's them! It's really them! It's Derringer Meryl and Stungun Millie!" The cluster of Bernadelli girls sucked in their breath for a moment. Then they swarmed Millie and Meryl. "Miss Stryfe! Can I have your autograph! Miss Thompson, where's the stungun? Wow! That is heavy! How do you carry it?"

* * *

Frank loved holidays, especially Arrival Day. People would buy anything from you on Arrival Day, especially if you could appeal to their sympathies. And Frank, a fourteen-year-old boy who looked ten, could appeal to anybody's sympathies.

This year, he was selling apples. "Hey mister? Want an apple? They're nice and fresh!"

The man in black stopped and turned towards the boy. "Apples, eh? Let's see. I like a good apple." He grabbed a green apple from Frank's basket and started tossing it around. As deftly as any festival juggler, he flipped the apple from hand to hand, spinning it around his arms and shoulders in an intricate dance. Frank couldn't help himself; he reached out and grabbed at the apple.

The man in black swiftly popped the apple from his left hand over to his right, and Frank caught nothing but empty air. "Too slow," the man in black said. He put the green apple back in the basket and selected a red one. He looked over and took a bite. "Mmmm, I think I'll this one instead." He tossed a couple of double dollars towards the boy and was about to step away when he noticed something on the apple. He peeled off a small sticker and showed it to the boy.

"This says 'Baradouch Fruit Company'. They only sell to licensed grocers, and the grocers are required to remove the tags after sale. You don't look like a licensed grocer to me."

Frank swallowed and started stuttering. "Well, uh, ya see, er, I got these, er, in, er." He could feel himself breaking out in a cold sweat.

The man in black smiled kindly. "It's okay, you can admit it. You stole them didn't you? It's alright, we all do what we have to in order to survive." Frank swallowed hard and nodded. The man black nodded knowingly. "I thought so. Of course, you know what stealing is, don't you?"

"A crime?"

"More than a crime," the man in black said, pulling a cross out of his jacket. He flipped around and caught it by the left arm. "It's a sin."

There was a small flash and a soft "phewt" noise. Then there was silence in the alley. Father Danil emerged from the alleyway, munching on a red apple, making his way towards the Plant.

* * *

"Hey, whose that on the stage?" Calamity asked.

Evans stood on tiptoe and tried to peer over the crowd. "Can't tell, too many people." He knelt down and motioned to Calamity. "On my back, I'll give you a boost."

Calamity stood back a little and charged towards Evans, vaulting onto his shoulders. Evans stood up precariously and stumbled around.

"Quit rocking Calvary-boy, I can't see."

"You try this! What the hell do you have in that coat?"

Calamity strained her eyes, trying to identify the figure marching nervously onto the stage. Blonde hair, red coat, about 5'10"… "I think it's Nikki!"

"Fantastic. Really. Now get the hell off of me."

Calamity bent down and stared into Evans face. "I dunno, this if my first time riding a Calvaryman, I think I kinda like it. I bet it's your first time being ridden by a outlaw."

Evans grunted. "You'd be surprised."

"Well aren't you mister innuendo today?"

"You started it!"

Jeremiah walked up behind them. He tapped Evans on the shoulder. "What are you guys doing here?"

Evans turned around quickly. Too quickly. He overbalanced and collapsed backwards, falling on top of Calamity. "Sonofa!"

Jeremiah leaned his cross against a building and helped them up. "Never do that again!" Calamity said.

"Yeah, sorry. What are you guys doing here?"

"We hitched a lift with your mothers after we left the massacre at Tonim," Evans said.

Jeremiah's eyes widened. "Our, mothers?" he said nervously. "They followed us here?"

Evans nodded. "Don't worry. They're back they're getting mobbed by some sort of Bernadelli fan club. Get lost in the crowd and they'll never find you."

Jeremiah nodded. His blue eyes lost their focus and gazed off into space. "If they followed Vash around, can we really escape them?"

"What?" Calamity asked.

Jeremiah shook his head, returning from the land of memory back to reality. "Nothing. It's not important." The sound of guitar string being plucked resonated over the square. Jeremiah smiled and turned towards the stage. "Sounds like Nikki's starting her act," he turned towards Calamity and held out a hand, "you dance outlaw?"

* * *

Nikki plucked the next note on her guitar. She bit her lip and looked at the audience before her. _You can do this, you can do this, you can do this._ She fingered the pick in her palm and sighed. It was now or never. She cleared her throat.

"Oh goodbye, Jenora.

Sweet town where the wind blows.

Goodbye, Jenora.

The city of the mills.

Goodbye, Jenora. . . Rock!

Hey, yeah yeah, Goodbye Jenora!

Don't cry for me, Jenora.

I'll be right back, when the sandstorms blow again.

Goodbye Jenora.

I'll miss you when the moons sail high overhead!

Goodbye Jenora

Keep waiting for me, I promise I will return!

Goodbye, Jenora… Rock."

Nikki let her breath out and closed her eyes, fearful of the crowd's reaction. She had nothing to fear. She never did.

Jeremiah ran up to the stage, dragging Calamity behind him. Off to the left, Evans was forcing his way through the applauding crowd. Jeremiah levered himself up onto the stage and pulled Calamity up behind him. He ran up to Nikki and threw an arm around her. "See, I told you could do it. Aren't you glad I unilaterally decided that you'll play."

Calamity crossed her arms. "Not bad, daughter of the Stampede."

Nikki chuckled. "Given up that title?"

"Well, yeah. I didn't know that guy really had a daughter!"

Evans levered himself up onto the stage and ran over to Nikki. "Your mothers, they got away from their freaky fan club. You might want to run."

A man with a camera ran up to the four and raised it up. "Okay, everyone smile!"

The funny thing about people with cameras is that when they give orders, people will follow them. No one really knows why, but for a split second, God himself will do what a photographer tells him to. The man thanked them, handed the picture to Calamity, who absent-mindedly put the picture in a pocket.

Nikki struggled with the guitar. "We've got to get out of her before they find us!"

A massive truck rolled into the city, interrupting Nikki's train of thought. It stopped fifty yars from the square. The doors opened and a man stepped out. An ordinary looking man. An extremely ordinary looking man. He hefted up a large assault rifle and fired it over the crowd. The crowd threw themselves on the ground, cowering in fear. The man laughed and stepped down from the truck and into the plaza. He was followed by nineteen other men and women, all hefting similar assault rifles.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Do not worry. Chances are very good you will not be harmed! This is a simple looting and pillaging type of operation! We will be ransacking your house, taking all of your valuables, that sort of thing."

"Just what we need," Nikki whispered to Jeremiah.

Jeremiah nodded. He cracked his knuckles in his fist. "I'm not sure what we do now."

Evans hand slipped down to his saber. "Where's Calamity?" he asked.

Jeremiah's eyes darted back and forth across the stage. "I dunno, she was just here a second ago."

An explosion was heard from the streets and the giant truck erupted in flames. MacKenzie's gun slipped as he stared at the slowly burning remains of their transport. "What. . . happened?"

"Oh MacKenzie, MacKenzie, MacKenzie. You really can't do anything without me can you?" Calamity said as she stepped around the smoldering wreckage, flipping a radio detonator in her right hand. "The bank job in January? Me. The weapons hijacking of the 47th caravan? Me. The raid on the Baradouch Produce Company depot? Me. You guys are nothing without me. Don't let that bounty get to your heads."

MacKenzie blinked a few times, not trusting his eyes. "Clarissa? Is that you?"

Calamity grinned. "Yep. It's me, Clarissa "Calamity" Shriver." She approached MacKenzie, still flipping the detonator in her hand. MacKenzie raised the assault rifle up in front of her, but Calamity simply pushed it away and got in close to MacKenzie, right up in his face.

MacKenzie gulped. "Clarissa, we were sure that you had. . ." he started to say, before he was interrupted by a scream.

Nikki screamed as agony washed over her, agony that she had never felt before. She clutched her head and fell backwards. Evans ran up and caught her before she could hit the stage.

"What's wrong?" he yelled.

Nikki peered up at him through her fingers. "Something's dying," she said, "No. Something's dead."

The electric lights over the square burnt out in unison, the PA system used for the musicians faded away, and all over Christmas City, lights went out and water stopped running. The city was engulfed in darkness.

Jeremiah knew what was coming. He had seen it before. "GET DOWN!" He screamed over the panicking crowd, but no one seemed to listen or care. The only person who reacted at all was Calamity, who instinctively threw herself to the dirt.

For the rest of the Wild Bunch, it was too late. Two guns flashed ten times each and the Wild Bunch all fell to the ground, a bullet hole in each of their heads. Not a gunshot was heard, just a faint "phewt". Calamity picked herself up and rushed towards MacKenzie's broken body.

"MacKenzie! MacKenzie!"

"Why waste your time on them? They were sinners. It is foolish to mourn for the damned." The voice echoed around the square, the people turned, trying to find its source.

"Take for example the man with the camera and the brown vest," the voice said.

The photographer swallowed and pointed to himself. "Me?"

"Yes, you. You are also a sinner. You cheated on your wife today, shame shame. You hid your actions from your wife, but you can never hide them from God." A gun flashed again, and the photographer flew backward as the bullet entered his head.

"And yet another damned goes to Hell. How about you, with the green cap? Care to confess?"

The man looked around for the voice, but found nothing. "Confess what? I haven't done anything. I'm just a Plant technician!"

"I guess not." A gun flashed. "You have all forsaken the light of God, and for what? A giant light bulb! But all light bulbs burn out eventually." A pair of lights appeared in an alleyway. They moved out into the plaza, trailing gun smoke behind them.

"And how about you little missie?" the lights said as they resolved themselves into eyes. Eyes that glowed from within, providing illumination to the owner and scarce comfort to those who looked into them. The owner of the eyes couldn't be seen, the blackness was too deep. Not even the five moons could reveal the man whose eyes glowed in the darkness.

The girl the eyes had addressed whimpered and clutched her son. "Please, don't."

"You're what, nineteen? Twenty?"

The girl nodded, tears streaming from her eyes.

"And your son, unless I am very mistaken, is about five years old. How old where you when you had him? Hm?"

The girl turned her son away from the eyes. "I had him when I was fourteen! Why do you care? Why can't you leave us alone?"

"Because my dear," the eyes said, pointing a cross at the girl, "it's a sin." He pulled the trigger.

BANG!

The eyes turned towards the stage. Nikki sat there, the Green Long Colt in her hand, smoke rising from the barrel. "Stop it," she said. "Stop the killing."

"Nice shot. I'm surprised you could even see me in this dark, let alone hit a moving bullet."

"What did you do? What else have you killed?" Nikki asked, struggling to her feet.

"Ahh, of course. You heard it didn't you? The death scream? It's final, thrashing, pitiful plea for life?"

"NIKKI!" Meryl screamed running into the plaza, Millie in tow. The eyes tracked her movement and another cross came up.

"Of course, you two are the worst sinners of all, aren't you?" The eyes turned to Nikki. "You, for even existing, and you. . ." they turned back to Meryl, "for bringing her into this world."

"What are you talking about? Light bulbs, existing, what has my mother done to you?"

"Why. . . you don't know what you are, do you? They, they haven't told you?" The eyes turned back to Meryl. "You haven't told your little abomination what she is? What her father is? What he has done to God's people? You haven't told her?" The eyes started laughing.

Evans stood in front of Nikki and put his hand on the hilt of his saber.

"Oh? What are you going to try to do, Cavalryman? Your law is but secondary to the law of God. And besides, can you even see me? With those sunglasses on?"

Evans other hand went up to his head, adjusting his glasses. "You'd be surprised as to what I can do."

"Yes, but can you save two people at once? Care to try it?"

There was the sound of a hundred snaps opening and the eyes found themselves menaced by a six and half foot cross.

"This ends now Father Danil. Quit killing them." Jeremiah said, pointing his Cross Punisher at Danil's head. His eyes too, glowed with the strange light from within.

Father Danil chuckled. His eyes turned towards Millie. "Miss Thompson I presume? I can see the family resemblance. I must, comment you on your son. A fine young lad, shows a lot of promise. He's already learned to hoist his weapon."

"Jeremiah," Millie said, "who is this?"

"Who indeed? Now, Jeremiah you've shown that you can lift your weapon, all that remains is to use it. Go ahead Jeremiah, kill me. Save all these people. Use your weapon, and save all these lost souls."

Jeremiah said nothing, his expression unreadable and his eyes, still glowing.

"And so many ways to do it as well. Burn me, blow me up, or just shoot me. Why don't you back up a bit and practice your aim, eh? Of course, why waste a good bullet on me? You're close enough. Hit all those switches, and just stab me in the head."

Jeremiah's jaw clenched. He blinked several times.

"C'mon Jeremiah, pull the trigger."

"No Jeremiah, don't," Millie whispered. She looked at Meryl and Nikki. "It's not worth it Jeremiah, there has to be another way."

"Pull the trigger Jeremiah."

Jeremiah's arm started shaking.

"PULL THE TRIGGER JEREMIAH!"

Jeremiah's breath came in short gasps, and he slowly lowered the Cross Punisher to the ground.

Danil smirked. "Pathetic. You're father wouldn't have hesitated a second. But then again, you aren't your father are you?" He turned back towards the stage. "You want answers, abomination? You want to know what your blasphemer of a mother won't tell you? Jenora. Head to Jenora Rock. That's where you'll get answers." Danil started backing away into the shadows, the lights in his eyes dimming. "Jenora Rock." The lights went out, and Father Danil disappeared.

"I'm going mother, you can't stop me."

"Nikki, it's a trap. Either he'll be waiting or he's just leading you to your father's brother!"

"I don't care mom! If you won't give me any answers, I'll have to find some for myself!" Nikki screamed at her mother. Before Meryl could respond, Nikki ran off into the blackness.

Jeremiah looked at his mother. "I'm sorry, but I've got to help her."

Millie nodded knowingly. "Keep her safe Jeremiah. Or I'll smack you when you get back. You wouldn't want that would you?"

Jeremiah chuckled. "No, I certainly wouldn't." He shouldered his cross and was about to run off after Nikki when a hand tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to see the old music maker standing there.

"Tell the young lady that she can keep the guitar, eh? Tell her that, one day, she could be great. She really set the crowd on fire, yes, the crowd on fire." Jeremiah nodded, and taking one last look at Meryl and his mother, darted out into the blackness after Nikki.

Millie and Meryl stood side-by-side for a while, neither saying a word. Finally, Millie turned to Meryl.

"We're going to go after them, aren't we Meryl?"

Meryl sighed. "Yeah. We are Millie." She looked up at the moons. "Is that all we do? Follow, chase, search for? Is that all we can do for our loved ones?"

"Maybe Meryl. But at least we're good at it! We've even got our own fan club!"

Meryl winced. "Don't remind me Millie."

"Miss Thompson! Miss Stryfe!"

A pained look crossed Meryl's face. "Run Millie!"

* * *

Nikki rushed towards city limits, not even really thinking about where she was going, the guitar still slung around her back.

"Going my way?"

Nikki stopped. Evans and Calamity stood near her, leaning against the truck they had rode in on. Jeremiah came rushing up and skidded to a stop. He leant on his cross, panting heavily.

"This isn't your problem you two. You don't have to come with us."

"Yes it is," Evans said, staring at the ground. "It's my problem because he killed all those people. It's my problem because I couldn't protect them. It's my problem because I failed my duty. Don't tell me it's not my problem Nikki. He killed them I couldn't do anything."

Nikki pointed at Calamity. "And her?"

Calamity said nothing and stared at her hands, still covered in MacKenzie's blood.

Evans shrugged. "Honor among thieves. What can I say?"

"I'm not going to let you guys endanger yourselves," Jeremiah said. He suddenly found himself looking down Evans' saber.

"Are you going to try and stop us Jeremiah? Don't make me have to hurt you. I like you, and I would hate to have to hurt you."

Jeremiah chuckled mirthlessly. "Alright, but I'm driving."

"Like hell you are, I'm driving!" Nikki said.

"You almost crashed the last car!"

"Like you're any better?"

"No, I'm driving," Evans said. "Seeing as how I'm the one with the keys."

* * *

Johnny and Blayne stood among the newly made sandworm graveyard. Johnny stuck his hands in his pockets. "Shame we had to kill the rest of 'em"

Blayne shrugged and snapped open her fan. The blades on the fan gleamed in the five moons' faint light. "They're worthless anyway. No strategy, no pack ideas, no intelligence, just a stomach and some teeth." A device attached to her corset beeped. She closed her fan and picked up the device.

"They just left Christmas City," a voice said from the box.

"Excellent, overtake them and meet us at Jenora Rock," Blyane said.

"Can't I kill her now?" the voice asked.

"No Schneider, you can't. There's been a change of plans."

"But I want to kill her!" Schneider whined, "she deserves to die after what her father did!"

"Do not question the Masters' decision Schneider. It is beyond your feeble comprehension."

"Maybe I'll just kill her anyway. . ."

Blayne looked up at Johnny. She thrust the communicator at him. "He's your subordinate, you talk to him!"

Johnny took the box and held it to his ear. "Schneider, are you there? It's me, Johnny."

"I'm going to kill her Johnny, and you can't stop me."

"Oh really? Well Schneider, I have to ask you something then. Can you out fight an angel? Can you outwit the devil? Can you outwait a monster? Can you over power a beast!? You better be damned sure that you can, because if you kill her now, when the time comes, it won't be Master Knives and it won't be Legato and it won't be Martinez and it won't be Blayne. It'll just be me, and my blades. You can't run forever Schneider. Care to try your luck?"

Static crackled form the box, then Schneider's voice drifted out. "I'll see you at Jenora. I can wait a little longer."

"Glad to hear it," Johnny said. He flipped the communicator off and tossed it to Blayne. They walked off towards the west. Johnny stopped and pulled a knife out of a sandworm's head.

"I still can't believe you dropped that thing with one throw," Blayne said.

Johnny grinned. He turned the knife over to reveal the name carved into the hilt. "Clarissa here never misses."

* * *

Meryl: Should we have told her? Was it my place to tell her? Why didn't we tell her what she was? Because we were afraid. We were afraid of how she might react. Were we wrong to keep our secrets from her? Have we left her at the mercy of a dry world, at the mercy of a fallen angel and his demons?

Next Chapter: Goodbye Jenora

#############################################################################


	11. Goodbye Jenora

Disclamer: I don't own Trigun. I don't own even own my car for pity's sake.

############################################################################

June 2nd, two days after Arrival Day

"C'mon Nikki, just eat it," Evans said, thrusting a skewer with some meat on it towards her. Near him, two other meat skewers roasted over the fire.

"Sorry Evans, I have a rule, never eat anything I can't recognize," Nikki said, pushing the skewer back towards Evans.

"What if I told you what it was, would that make it better?"

"No, if anything it would make it worse."

Evans shrugged. "More for me then." He bit into the meat. "Hmm, still a little undercooked." He returned the meat into the fire and leaned back against the truck. He pulled a cigar out of his case and lit it in the fire.

Nikki sighed and put her face in her hands. She wished she had the guitar with her, but Jeremiah and Calamity were on the other side "doing something." That was all Evans and Nikki had heard from the pair since Jeremiah had discovered a toolbox stuffed under a seat.

On the other side of the car, Jeremiah sat with the guitar in his lap and a pair of pliers in his hand. He put the pliers down and held out his hand. "5/8ths wrench."

Calamity looked over his shoulder. "No, 3/4s." She slapped the wrench into his hand.

Jeremiah looked at the guitar again. "I stand corrected." He fiddled with something, then handed the wrench back to Calamity. He stood up and reached for his suit jacket. "Well, I think we're done with that.

Calamity knelt down and picked up the guitar and plucked a few notes. "Still plays, pretty amazing."

Jeremiah nodded as he rolled up the sleeves on his jacket. "Well yeah, that was the trick wasn't it? If it didn't play, what we did wouldn't be nearly as impressive."

Calamity turned the guitar over, inspecting the back for any blemishes their work might have left. "Well, let's head over to the other side for dinner. Whatever Evans is cooking smells good."

Jeremiah grimaced as he put his cross-stud earring back in. "You don't want that."

"I don't want that?"

You don't want that."

* * *

Jenora Rock, June 3rd, about 10:00 pm

Out in a small graveyard in Jenora, all was peaceful. Not a single sound broke the tranquil sleep of the dead. Except for a munching sound.

The sound came from a blue-haired man standing in the middle of the graveyard. He was dressed in black, so one might have mistaken him for a mourner if it weren't for his white coat and the hotdog he held in his left hand. His single visible golden eye peered around the graveyard as he finished the hotdog and started licking his fingers. Far too much for just a hot dog.

Suddenly, a hand burst out of a grave and clawed at the ground. This hand was followed by another hand, then two arms, and then a person pulled themselves out of the grave. He was dressed in a closed brown trench coat that matched his close-cropped hair. His eyes faded somewhere between red and green before finally settling with green.

"Good evening," Legato said.

Martinez stood up. "Think we've enough to time to grab something to eat before the kids get here?"

Legato nodded. "I know a place with great cheesecake."

* * *

The door swung open and two men stepped into the restaurant. The blue-haired one sat down at one end of the bar and signaled for the waitress.

The waitress stared at the blue-haired man for a while before he cleared his throat. She came back to her senses and asked what he would like.

"Some cheesecake please."

The waitress nodded and ran off towards the kitchen.

The other man sat down in front of the bartender and surveyed the racks of alcohol. "Do you have any good after dinner drinks?" he asked.

The bartender nodded and pulled a bottle of amber liquid from below the bar labeled "Badwick Gardens" and set it on the table. He poured some into a glass and slid it across to the man. "What did you have for dinner chief?"

"Oh I haven't had it yet," the man responded.

The blue-haired man at the end of the bar eyed him critically. "I don't suppose it would be too much to ask that you wait until my food has arrived?"

The man in the brown coat waved dismissively. "Not at all."

* * *

The Sheriff's posse was too late. It always is. That is the nature of Sheriff's possess and Cavalry charges. They are reactionary forces, forever doomed to arrive on the scene when it's too late to stop the event from ever happening.

In this case, the Sheriff and his posse arrived too late to stop what appeared to be a wholesale slaughter. Not a single living person could be seen in the entire southern quarter. Just a lot of bodies, and a disturbing lack of blood.

The Sheriff pushed open a door and stepped into a restaurant, looking for survivors. He found two men sitting at the bar, one eating cheesecake, and the other drinking amber liquid from a whiskey glass.

"Did you two see what happened? How can you eat at a time like this?"

They looked up and stared at him for a second, then shrugged and starting ignoring him again.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" the Sheriff said, pulling his sidearm.

"Hey Sheriff! We found some people here at the bordello! Here, let me help you two up. . . Wha, what are you doing to me! Let me go! LET ME GO! IT BURNS!"

"No, no, stay back. What are you going to do with those-HURK!"

"Where, where did that come from? Who's there? Come out!"

"There's more! There's a lot more of them! Fall back!"

"Where does he keep those knives? There's no way he can be holding all of them!"

"LOOK OUT! HE'S GOT EXPLOSIVE IN THERE!"

There was a whistling sound, then an explosion, then silence. The men at the bar kept eating and drinking, as if the screams were nothing but background music. A pleasant melody meant to help the digestion.

The sheriff turned around and rushed out the door. The sight would have haunted his dreams for the rest of his life. His posse, two hundred strong, was all dead, except for one man. A pair of identical men dressed in fringed jackets were holding the frightened deputy up against the bordello wall. They turned and regarded the sheriff with opposite colored eyes, red and blue, and blue and red.

Another man knelt close by, his eyes covered by a blindfold. His clothing blended into the night, making the only part of him visible his blindfold and the sword he was pulling from a body. He pulled a rag from some pocket and wiped the blade clean of blood. Dropping the rag on the street, he sheathed the blade and walked next to a woman leaning against the bordello wall. She was pulling on a pair of long leather gloves. Her sickly orange eyes regarded the sheriff with hatred.

There was a blur of motion and a wild looking man stood in front of the sheriff. The man peered at the sheriff and scratched his windswept hair. "I dunno why the bosses would want two of you alive."

"Ours is not to wonder why gentlemen. Ours is but to do or die," a man in a multi-colored poncho and dirty blue jeans said. He took off his hat and ran a hand through his messy red hair. The man approached the Sheriff and regarded him with his laughing hazel eyes. "Don't worry lawdog, me and Blayne'll keep these guys at bay for now. She's got a lot of experience keeping wolves at bay, don't you Blayne?" He gestured to a beautiful blonde behind him.

She closed her blade-fan and glared at Johnny. "Don't compare my pack to your cretins, Johnny."

Johnny chuckled. "See guys? She loves all of us."

"Enough Johnny, I wish to speak with him," the blue-haired man who had been eating the cheesecake said, stepping out of the restaurant. His brown-haired companion followed, the glass still in his hand. He flashed a grin at the Sheriff, revealing two large fangs.

"We hear rumors." The vampire said. "Rumors of a Sheriff who stands for justice way out in the city of Jenora. Of a man who fought to the last against the Roughland gang until help arrived, then fought on even after the Cavalry came."

The blue-haired man put his hands into his pockets. "We hear rumors, and we wish to know if they are true. Here you are, Sheriff, outnumbered and outgunned. What will you do?"

The Sheriff raised his sidearm and fired at the vampire, hitting him in the chest. The bullet passed right through, leaving a gaping hole. "Why did you have to ruin my favorite coat?" the vampire asked.

The Sheriff growled and turned his aim on the blue haired man. His arm suddenly seized up. He felt it slowly move away from the blue-haired man until it was pressed against his temple.

"The rumors are true, it seems," the blue-haired man said, "And it seems to me that the only one here really worthy enough to kill such a hero, is you."

The Sheriff didn't flinch as he felt himself pull the trigger, but none of the Gung Ho Guns were expecting him to. They now turned their attention to the remaining deputy, still pinned to the bordello wall by the twins. Legato and Martinez approached him.

"Do you know why we let you live?" Legato asked.

"M-, m-, mercy?" the deputy asked.

Legato and Martinez smiled. "Mercy? Don't be absurd. I plan to kill every human being on this planet, why would I show mercy?"

Martinez drank the last of his liquor and leaned in close to the deputy. "We're letting you live because every crime needs a witness. Now run along and tell the Cavalry we're here. I'm sure they'll find it just. . . fascinating."

The twins pushed the deputy away. He took one look at the demons behind him and ran off into the night. Blayne approached Legato and knelt in front of him. She reached out carefully, and Legato presented his left hand to her. She held as a priest would hold the Grail, and then nuzzled it against her cheek.

Johnny stood next to Martinez and stared at the corpse of the Sheriff. "Danil knows we're here. I'm not worried about the Cavalry, but what if the good Father brings the Flock down on us?"

"He wouldn't come here," Legato said. "What would he gain by killing the servants of his enemy? Danil would only come if the Master himself were here."

The man with blindfold's head swung towards Legato. "But still, I am worried sir. Even though Danil might not come here, his second-in-command is said to be much more impulsive. Should we not be cautious? With Blayne's pack away and the guardians under repair, we do not have the numbers to fight them all."

Martinez chuckled. "Oh ye of little faith." He crushed the glass in his hand and picked out glass shard. Disposing of the rest, he dragged the shard across his palm, leaving a jagged cut. "I'm no Julius," Martinez said, kneeling over the body of the Sheriff, "but let me show you a trick." He pressed his blood soaked palm to the forehead of the Sheriff and closed his eyes. The Sheriff's body stood up, his eyes soulless and lifeless, his hands lacking their strength of before. One by one, the rest of the posse stood up, as soulless as the Sheriff had been.

Martinez started to stand up, and then slumped to side. Johnny caught him and put his shoulder under Martinez's arm. Martinez grinned, showing his fangs. "Not strong, but they'll serve for foot fodder. Now, let's carve us up some new recruits."

* * *

The truck rambled on towards the city lights. Jeremiah was driving now, Evans had wanted some time to smoke and Calamity was showing Nikki the new "features" on her guitar. Jeremiah had turned off the headlights but his eyes had started to glow again. They drove in silence now, Calamity having finished her tutorial. As they approached the town limits, Evans stabbed his cigar out. "Quick check," he asked, "Am I the only one who's worried about what we're going to find?"

They all shook their heads. "Thought so," Evans said. He pulled out his saber and tested the edge. He put it back in its sheath and pulled out his service revolver. He flicked it open. Six bullets were loaded into the chamber. He closed it again. "Don't know why I bother checking, I'm a terrible shot anyway."

The truck rolled into the southern part of town and screeched to a halt. The doors opened and the four slowly stepped out. Calamity looked around carefully, but saw nobody. No bodies either, so that was probably a good sign. Evans pulled out another cigar and lit it, while Nikki and Jeremiah went around the back of the truck to get their luggage.

Nikki came up first, the guitar on her back, the strap running over her left shoulder, between her breasts and under the flap of her open jacket. She reached into her jacket sleeve and pulled out her purple-lensed sunglasses. She flipped them open and pushed them on.

Evans chuckled. "You are sooo copying my style."

"Shaddup."

"How can you two see in those things?" Calamity asked.

Jeremiah came up beside them, the side arm of his cross leaning against his shoulder. The glow in his eyes changed from white to red. He turned towards Evans and threw his hand in front of his eyes. "Put that thing out Evans, I can't see!"

Evans shrugged. "Sorry, it's a drug, I'm addicted." Nevertheless, he dropped the cigar and crushed it with his boot.

Jeremiah's red gaze swept over the town. "That's weird, there isn't anything alive in the whole place. At least nothing that's giving off heat."

"Then what's that?" Nikki asked, pointing to an approaching form. It appeared to have a human from this distance, but it was difficult to be sure. Its head lolled on its neck at a crazy angle, and its shuffling gate was unsure.

Jeremiah looked towards it. "What's what?" The glow in his eyes faded from red back to white. "Holy shit!" he said. "That thing's dead!"

"Dead things don't usually walk around Jeremiah," Calamity said.

Jeremiah shook his head and the glow in his eyes turned red again, then back to white. "No doubt about it, that thing's dead!"

"You sure?" Evans asked. Jeremiah nodded. "Well," Evans said, "If we're going to run amuck then there's no time like the present!" His hand shot down to his saber hilt and he drew it with blinding speed. The dust between him and the corpse shot up, blowing the street litter to the side. The corpse was thrown back into a wall, where it stopped moving.

They ran up to the corpse. Nikki turned to Evans. "How the hell did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"The thing with the shockwave from the sword! There's no way that's regular Cavalry training!"

"Practice. Lots and lots of practice." Evans answered.

Calamity knelt in front of the corpse and reached out a hand to its neck. "Well, it's dead, but it was dead before the Cavalry boy hit it. Something snapped his neck." She turned the head over. "That's strange, he's got two little puncture marks on his neck. Like he was bitten by a vampire or something."

Evans, Nikki, and Jeremiah sucked in their breath.

"Martinez?" Nikki asked.

"Don't worry," Jeremiah said, hefting his Cross Punisher. "I'm prepared."

A sound came from the end of the street. They looked up and saw more zombies shuffling towards them, led by the body of the Sheriff. Evans brought his sword around, Jeremiah reached for the snaps on his cross, and Calamity reached into her coat, but Nikki stopped them.

"Wait, I want to see how this thing works." She walked out into the middle of the street and cracked her knuckles. She held out her hand and motioned towards the gang; on the offhand chance they could still understand it.

The Sheriff's body might or might not have understood it, it didn't matter. Either way, it raised its gun towards Nikki, the rest of the zombies following suit. Nikki's arms flashed into her jacket with a speed that put Evans to shame. The Long Colts came out and twelve shots rang out in the night, sending twelve of the twenty flying backwards.

Nikki's thumbs shot out and hit the switches on the side of her gun. They snapped open and the bullets ejected from their barrels into the air. Her hands flew back behind her up into the two black tubes sticking from the barrel of her guitar. There was a loud **KA-CHUNK** noise and her hands came back, the Long Colts fully reloaded. She snapped the guns shut and took aim at the remaining eight, who hadn't even raised the weapons. Eight more shots rang out in the night, and then silence reigned once more.

**Impressive shooting, little spiderfly. You really are the spitting image of your father. It's too bad you have the taint of your mother in you.**

"Who said that?" Calamity asked, looking around.

Jeremiah's eyes found them first. He pointed up towards the windmills on the plateau. Martinez stood there, with Legato by his side. He waved and then motioned for them to come up there.

"I have a message for the red head," a voice said from the shadows. A blonde stepped out from the shadows, dressed in what would have been called the Victorian style back on earth. She reached into her corset and pulled out two fans. She flicked them open, revealing them to be made of blades. "Johnny says hi."

Calamity tensed up. "Johnny?"

Blayne pointed up towards the windmills with her fan. Johnny came up and leaned on Legato and Martinez's shoulders, grinning insanely. He waved at Calamity.

Calamity, Nikki, and Jeremiah ran off down the street past Blayne, towards the windmills. Blayne looked behind her, then back towards Evans. "Well, I guess that means you and I get to play."

Evans brought his sword up in front of him, parallel to the ground. "I guess it does. How about a date afterwards?"

"Sorry, you aren't beautiful enough. You're only human."

* * *

"Well, well, a little zombie army. We've been transported to a horror story."

Jeremiah and Nikki nodded. Jeremiah reached up and flipped a strap on his Cross Punisher. A flurry of straps opening, cloth flying open, and suddenly Jeremiah was holding it under his arm. The long end opened, revealing two gun barrels. He reached out a flipped a switch. "Incendiary ammo, yeah?" He hefted the Punisher and pulled the trigger. Bullets spat out of the double barrels and slammed into the approaching zombies, who promptly burst into flame.

Nikki threw herself to the side, squeezing off her four remaining rounds. Her hands shot back to the guitar again, specifically to the two black tubes sticking out of the bottom.

**KA-CHUNK!**

She came up again with two loaded guns. Another twelve shots and twelve more zombies went down.

"Damn it, there's too many of them!" Jeremiah shouted as the flipped another switch on his Punisher. "I'm already out of incendiary ammo!" He hoisted the Punisher again, but a bullet flew from the zombie army and hit it, causing him to drop it. Jeremiah cursed and dove for the Punisher, rolling for cover by Nikki. Calamity dove to the left, taking cover behind a stack of crates across the street.

"You two are too subtle," Calamity said, reaching into her coat. She pulled a grenade out and yanked the pin out with her teeth. She glanced towards the zombie army and flung it towards the zombies.

**BOOM!**

Calamity glanced over the boxes. "Well, that settles that, doesn't it?"

Nikki and Jeremiah stared at Calamity, their jaws quivering.

Calamity glared at them. "What?" she asked.

Jeremiah grinned. "Nothing."

* * *

Evans drew his sword hand back down to his sheath then whipped it outward. The sand flew up as the shockwave blasted down the street towards Blayne. She darted to the right, the shockwave rippling her dress but missing her.

"Too slow human!" She dashed forward, both fans open, their blades shining in the faint moonlight. She slashed downwards, but Evans sidestepped the right and brought his saber around for a horizontal slash. Blayne ducked, then rocketed upwards with both fans open.

Evans stepped backwards and brought his saber upwards. He brought it down in an overhead chop, but Blayne caught in both her fans. "Still won't consider going on a date? There's something appealing about a woman who can kick my ass."

Blayne grunted, then gave a little with her fans to overbalance Evans. He stumbled forward and she came up with her left fan. Evans hand shot out and grabbed her arm. He twisted and Blayne dropped the fan. She kicked Evans in the chest, then dove for the fan.

Jeremiah reached the windmills first, his eyes glowing red. "Alright, there is something alive up there. I got three living people."

"And one dead person," Martinez said, stepping out of the darkness. He was followed by Legato, Johnny, and a man dressed in a long vest that rivaled Calamity's coat in pocket number. His hair stuck out at random angles and he had a faraway look in his eyes.

Johnny waved. "Hiya Clarissa. I was so sorry to hear about the Wild Bunch."

Calamity glowered at him. "No you weren't. You probably thought it was funny."

Johnny shrugged. "Well it was. Admit it little sister, you enjoyed watching them die after what they did to you. You and I enjoy death. We're meant for it, we were born to kill."

"We aren't weapons Johnny!"

"Aren't we?"

Legato chuckled. "Denial is an ugly thing. It can rip families apart. Our Master and his brother are perfect examples."

Nikki pointed at him. "You're. . . You're Legato Bluesummers aren't you?"

"I see your father told you about me. I'm flattered. Perhaps he also told you what he did to me?" Legato reached up and moved his bangs slightly to the side, revealing a large round scar in the center of his forehead. "The most exquisite pain I ever experienced, though in fairness, I did kill your father, son of Chapel." He pointed towards Jeremiah.

Jeremiah raised an eyebrow, his eyes now glowing brighter then they had before.

"I see you've met Danil. How is he these days? Don't tell me he's still upset about his cousin, is he?" Martinez asked. He turned to Legato. "You want to talk to the abomination alone?"

Legato nodded. "I will show her what she truly is. As Danil might say, the sinner should know his crime before being punished for it."

Martinez nodded, then charged towards Jeremiah, knocking him down before he could bring his weapon. The Cross Punisher slid towards Johnny, who knelt down and tried to pick it up.

"Damn! This thing is heavy." He gave up and motioned towards Calamity. "C'mon sis, let's play." He rushed off to the side, Calamity giving chase.

Nikki stepped towards Legato bringing up her Long Colts. "God damn it, my father killed you. How are you still walking?"

**Come now little spiderfly, after all that you have seen tonight, are you really surprised by another walking corpse?**

Nikki pulled back the hammers on her Long Colts. "Get out of my head you son of a bitch."

Legato chuckled. Nikki felt herself being picked up by an unseen hand and thrown against a windmill. Her guns went flying to the ground. Legato bent down and picked them up.

** These really are very good. Marlon I assume? Yes, these are almost perfect. Almost. . .** He turned to the man beside him. "Lorand, make them perfect."

Lorand took the guns and turned around, fiddling with them.

Martinez had wrestled Jeremiah to the ground. He stood up and wiped some blood from a cut on his lip. "Damn, I'm impressed."

Jeremiah levered himself into a kneeling position. " I thought you couldn't stand to look at crosses?"

Martinez chuckled. "Only if I haven't had enough blood. Though raising our little army took it out of me, there was more than enough to fill me up again. Although. . ." he fingered the hole in his coat. "I never did get enough to fix this wound." He bent down and but his mouth on Jeremiah's neck. Jeremiah's hand came up and slammed into the side of Martinez's head. He pushed Martinez's head upwards into his ear. There was a sizzling sound and Martinez jumped back, a small cross-shaped scar on the side of his face.

"Nice earring. I'm impressed, but I really expected no less from the son of Nicholas D. Wolfwood." His hand shot out and hit Jeremiah in the back of the neck. Jeremiah fell forward, his entire body numb.

Lorand finished with the Long Colts and gave them back to Legato. Legato approached Nikki, who was sitting against the windmill, struggling against his control. He slid the green Long Colt into her shoulder holster, then took both her hands and closed them around the red Long Colt.

"You know, back before the Master, your uncle, found me, I lived with my human family. I don't remember much of my time there, but I do have a memory of a tradition they had. The week before my or my sister's birthday, they would always let us open a present early."

He backed away and turned to Lorand. "This is a sight best viewed from a distance."

Lorand nodded and took off, running as fast as he could away from Nikki.

Legato looked towards Martinez. They nodded. "Johnny! We're leaving!" Martinez called out.

They started walking away when Johnny caught up with them. He was a little bruised but looked none the worse for the wear. Calamity, panting, leaned against the windmill, not even trying to chase them.

As they were leaving, Legato reached his left hand out and snapped his fingers.

**Happy birthday, little spiderfly.**

* * *

Evans and Blayne stood in front of each other, breathing heavily. Blayne's dress had been cut and her corset had been almost sliced off, while Evans was sporting cuts on both arms.

**Come cousin, it's time to go**. Legato's voice resonated through Blayne's mind.

**Of course sir.**

Blayne smiled at Evans. "Sorry, don't have time for a date with you. Maybe if you quit holding back, I'll consider it." She turned and dashed off.

Evans was about to follow her when he heard Nikki's scream from the top of the plateau. He turned around and dashed towards the windmills.

Wolfwood lit a match and brought it up to his cigarette. He waved the match, extinguishing the fire. He walked next to Vash and leant on the rail of the observation deck.

"Hey Vash."

"Yeah Nick?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

Wolfwood breathed smoke out into the night air. It flew backwards as the sandsteamer chugged on. "Do you love Meryl?"

Vash looked offended as he stared at Wolfwood. "What kind of question is that? I had a child with her!"

Wolfwood nodded. "I know. I could see that Meryl loved you, Hell, a blind man could see that. But I wasn't so sure 'bout you. And I could also seeing you acting like you loved because you afraid that if you acted otherwise, she'd be hurt beyond repair. And I know how much you hate to see people being hurt."

Vash turned and stared into the desert, searching for an answer. Suddenly, he sucked in his breath. His eyes widened.

"What's up Vash?"

"Nikki. They, she's. . ." He pointed out into the desert.

Wolfwood followed his finger, and saw light building out in the wasteland. The cigarette dropped from his hands and bounced off the deck before falling off the steamer.

"God in Heaven. Not again. Not another city."

Nikki's face blanched as the top of her gun flew off, revealing a glowing black cylinder. Electricity crackled and she tried to pry her hands from the handle, but they had fused with the metal. The metal seemed to melt and crawl up her arms, which were turning the same color as the Long Colt. Her hands and the gun fused together and elongated into what looked like the barrel of a giant, organic, red gun. A small cage like structure in the middle of the barrel enclosed a small sphere of light. The worst of it all was, whatever her arms had changed into was pointing at Jeremiah, and she couldn't move it.

"Jeremiah!" she screamed, "RUN!"

Jeremiah tried to move, but his limbs wouldn't respond. He couldn't even raise his head to look at his death.

Calamity reached into a pocket and brought out a v-shaped silver object. She rushed before Jeremiah and held the object in front of her. It fused with her hands and covered them with a silvery sheen. Then there was a terrible green light, and all Jeremiah could see was Calamity in front of him, diverting the light as a rock diverts a stream.

* * *

The blast flew over Evans head as he was climbing the incline up to the windmills. The force that accompanied it sent him flying towards a building. He grabbed a porch railing and hung on, though his hat flew off into the winds.

* * *

Three iles outside of Jenora Rock, a gray-haired man stood, watching the scene with disgust. He was dressed completely in black except for a high collared white shirt and a gold cross on the back of his black jacket. He shook his head.

His companion stepped forward and stood next to him. Tall, with jet black hair, he was dressed similarly to the gray-haired man, except that instead of a black jacket, he wore a long coat decorated with swirling colors of every type. "And people call us crazy," he said.

The gray haired man sighed. "They have not seen the light like we have Joseph. Let's leave, the Cavalry will be coming soon."

* * *

The Cavalry had already arrived, but too late to stop anything. All they could do was watch from a distant dune, and hold back the women who had ridden up. They struggled against the Cavalrymen, fighting to get to the city.

"LET US GO! OUR CHILDREN ARE DOWN THERE!"

The big one took three Cavalrymen to restrain. The little one took four.

* * *

Evans limped up to the windmills. When he had been thrown against the house, he had sprained his ankle, now every step hurt.

He found Jeremiah sitting in the sand next to his Cross Punisher with his head in his hands. Near him, Nikki was sitting against a windmill and Calamity lay sprawled on the desert sand. Both were unconscious.

"What happened?" Evans asked.

Jeremiah shook his head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Evans turned to the rising suns and pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. Amazingly they had remained intact after the blast. The entire town was nothing but rubble. The casualties would have been enormous, if there had been anyone living still left there.

"Jeremiah, can you walk?"

Jeremiah looked up at Evans. "Yeah," he responded.

Evans nodded, then started limping over to Nikki. "Good, take Calamity and get out of here."

Jeremiah used his Cross Punisher to lever himself up. "Why?"

Evans stopped and pointed behind him. Jeremiah looked and saw a giant band of thomas riding people. Jeeps and supply trucks ran alongside them.

"The Cavalry's coming. I don't know what happened, but they'll blame it on Calamity, and arrest her."

"But what about Nikki?" Jeremiah asked.

"I promised Calamity that she would go free, but I can't protect her from them. You'll have to protect her Jeremiah. Don't worry about Nikki, I'll watch her."

Jeremiah hefted his cross onto his shoulder and walked over to Calamity. He scooped her up and gently slung her over his other shoulder. "Watch her close Evans, if anything happens to her, I'll make your life into Hell."

Evans nodded. "Don't worry Jeremiah. I'll protect her." He slumped down next to Nikki and pulled out a cigar. "Just go Jeremiah. Just go." He lit the cigar and took a puff as he watched Jeremiah walk away into the desert.

Evans took another puff on his cigar and closed his eyes.

* * *

Vash: Where did this all begin? Follow the string long enough and you can find the alpha for any series of events. Everything has a beginning somewhere. Sometimes you find that the beginning was further back then you had though. Perhaps when a man named Alex who loved a woman named Rem met a monster named Neron Martinez? Next chapter: Humanity's Demons.


	12. Humanity's Demons

Hello ladies and gents. I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving as I have.

Usual disclaimer: I don't own Trigun or any of its characters.

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White light, bright white light. It flew from the black wings of an angel, hurtling towards an angel with white wings. The other angel spread his wings and sent what could only be described a black light out. The two beams of light met together, swirling, mixing, balancing.

Then they were gone. Another angel appeared, this one female, and without a halo. It had two different colored wings, one red, the other green. Wings outspread she flew over the desert sands, somersaulting, twirling, smiles plastered on her face. She landed at an old church and knocked on the door. A young priest came out and shook her hand.

The angel opened her mouth to say something, but suddenly her red wing opened. It started glowing and the angel shouted at the priest. The priest tried to move, but his feet had fused to the ground.

**BOOM!**

The thunder crackled outside the apartment window. Rem's eyes flew open and she sat bolt upright, breathing heavily. _What did that mean?_ She looked next to her. Alex lay there, snoring softly. Rem smiled. There really was nothing she could do about his snoring. And she had tried everything.

She reached to the bedside table and tapped a small icon engraved into the plastic. A small readout appeared in front of her, hovering in mid-air. 04:48.

"Might as well just get up," she mumbled. She slipped out of the covers, taking care not to wake Alex and stumbled towards the bathroom, almost tripping over their cat. She struggled out of her pjs and stepped into the shower.

Rem had just lathered up her shampoo when there was a tap on the glass shower door. She turned to see Alex peering through. His black hair framed his head and his pale blue eyes were full of concern. "You okay honey? You don't normally get up this early."

Rem nodded. "Just a bad dream. Nothing you need to worry about." She started rinsing her long hair. "Why are you up so early anyway?"

Alex chuckled and pointed at his hair.

"It can't seriously take that long to fix it like that?"

Alex nodded. "So could you, um, kinda try to hurry it up? I gotta wash it before I can start."

Rem giggled and gently pushed the shower door open. "Why don't you just wash it with me?"

Alex grinned goofily as he took off his shirt. "That works."

* * *

Rem bit her lip as she stood in front of the door. They wanted another report on the Project SEEDS status.

"Why do I always have to give these reports?" she asked.

"Because you're beautiful. Bad news always goes down better from a beautiful woman," Alex said. His hair was now sticking straight up like a broom. A complete contrast to the well-pressed lab coat, clean shirt, and straight tie he was wearing. "Don't worry, you'll do fine. I'm the one that should be worrying. I've got to meet the backer tonight."

Rem smiled. "Oh come on Alex, he's just a backer. I'm sure he's a nice, normal guy."

* * *

Neron Martinez straightened his suit jacket and ran a hand through his close-cropped brown hair. He found that meetings with scientists went over better if you appeared official. Years of working under a professor had toned them to prefer having somebody that looked like they were in charge, even if they had every intention of ignoring them.

He pulled a pocket watch out of his jacket and flipped it open. 9:30. Dr. Masters was late. Of course, considering what the man would be able to do for him, lateness could be very easily forgiven.

"I'm sorry Mr. Martinez, I was held up by traffic," Alex said as he pushed open the door. He surveyed the room. Neron Martinez sat behind his desk, a medium sized affair carved from mahogany. A full bar was behind him. Besides that and the computer set up on his desk, Neron's office was sparse and empty. Alex got the impression that he didn't use it that much.

"It's quite alright Dr. Masters, and please call me Neron," he said as he stood up. "And I must apologize for making you come out at this late hour, but my schedule is simply too packed to meet you during the day." He indicated the chair in front of his polished desk and sat down.

Alex nodded and sat down. "Well, as long as we're on first names, just call me Alex."

Neron smiled. "Of course, now your assistant told me about your little project, but I'd like to hear it in your own words." He clasped his hands in front of his face.

Alex nodded. "It relates to Project SEEDS. It's become increasingly obvious that we can no longer survive on Earth. There's only so much the Plants can do to keep us from dying. So, as you know, we're sending out ships to colonize new worlds. But what worlds will we find Neron? Is this blue ball we live on an accident of the cosmos? What if we cannot find a habitable world? Throughout human history, we as a species have survived by being adaptable, but there's only so much we can do at this point. What if we were to coax evolution along a little, to make humans more adaptable to any of the environments that we may encounter?"

Neron swiveled his seat to the left and looked out his window. The New Chicago skyline shown brightly through the cloak of night. A teeming mass of life, all of it struggling to survive on the dying planet, and in a day not too far off, all struggling to survive on a new planet.

"Sounds like the plot of a bad horror movie, doesn't it?" Alex admitted ruefully. He hung his head and chuckled. "I guess I shouldn't really have expected for you to understand."

"No! I understand your point completely! Change is needed! If we have to coax that change ourselves, well, it's for the good of our children." He hit the desk for emphasis.

"You. . . you agree with me?" Alex asked.

Neron nodded. "Enough to give you full funding at least."

Alex blinked. "Full, full funding?"

"Yes. My resources are now at your disposal." Neron stood up and walked to the window. "You know, Alex, it's so rare to find someone with a true vision these days. Nobody can see past next week. It's how our planet got in the awful state it's in today!" He turned around. "But enough of this, a toast! To our partnership."

He walked to the bar behind his desk and took out two glasses. Taking a whiskey bottle down, he uncorked it and filled one glass to the brim. He slid it across his desk to Alex, who caught it absentmindedly. Neron smiled and pulled out another bottle, this one a deep red.

"I prefer mixed drinks myself," Neron said as he mixed it with the whiskey. He held out his glass. "What shall we toast to?"

Alex held out his glass. "To vision?"

"To vision then."

**CLINK**

They both drained their glasses in one gulp. Neron slammed his glass on the table and Alex followed suit. "Now, if you'll permit me, I'd like to take you and that lovely lady you came with to dinner."

"What? Rem? How did you know about her?"

Neron took his coat down from a peg on the wall. "It is my business to know things, how do you think I got this high on the corporate ladder at such a young age?"

* * *

"I just don't know Rem. He agreed too easily, that's all."

Rem snuggled closer to Alex. "Isn't that a good thing?"

"Well, the government turned me down so quickly I just thought. . ."

Rem tapped him on the head. "You think too much Alex. Logic doesn't solve everything."

"I never said it did. The best things in life can't be figured out on a calculator," Alex said as he put his hand behind Rem's head.

"Like what?"

"Like you."

Rem chuckled and started humming. She had heard the tune on the radio a couple of days ago and now she couldn't stop humming it.

"So, on the first evening a pebble from somewhere out of nowhere drops upon the sleeping world."

Alex smiled. He reached over and keyed off the lights. "Good night Rem."

* * *

6 months later

Alex peered at the data readout and blinked. The numbers swirled and danced and turned, he thought for a second, into flowerpot. Rem was right; he had been working too late. He promised himself that he would finish this genome code then head for home.

"You know, I hired you assistants for a reason," a voice said behind him.

Alex swiveled around in his chair. Neron stood there, the very image of a corporate CEO. His hands were clasped behind his back. "Rem called my office. She wanted to know why I was keeping you so late." Neron walked over to a desk, picked up a file and starting flipping through it.

Alex stood up. "That's the reject pile, nothing interesting there."

Neron raised an eyebrow. "Reject pile?"

Alex nodded. "Yeah, stuff we thought was going to work out but ended up only being useful for destruction. I suppose the military might be interested in it."

Neron flipped through the files. "Poison touch, illusionary replication, light emission. . ." Neron looked up. "What's so bad about light emission?"

Alex walked over and glanced over the file. "Oh, that. The problem was that the light could only be emitted in flashes or beams, like a laser. Not too useful for non-military applications."

Neron nodded and picked up the next folder. He read the name on the tab and held it up. "Demon's Eye?" he asked.

"Sensory hypnosis. Would've manifested itself as a red eye, which would have become pretty grotesque over the generations. One of the lab techs thought up the name." He took the folders from Neron and put them back on the desk. "Let me show you what we're really interested in." He opened a drawer and pulled out two files.

Neron took the first one and looked at the tab. "Psychic powers? Are you serious?"

Alex nodded excitedly. "Telepathy, telekinesis, the whole thing. It's like I was saying, the amount of untapped human potential is staggering."

Neron nodded and turned to the next file, which was only labeled NM. He flipped it open and pawed through the papers. "Alex, this isn't a gene alteration pattern. This looks like a sketch for a robot."

"Nano-machine. It's a sketch for a nano-machine. Microscopic robots that can live in the human body. Who knows what abilities they'll grant? They'll even pass down to the children of anyone who has it injected into them."

"Amazing. Are you sure the robot can be built?"

Alex chuckled and took a jar from a rack on the wall. He held in front of Neron. "Why don't you ask them?"

Neron's eyes widened. "In six months you've done all this? I'm impressed." He put the folders down on the desk next to the reject pile. "Have any of these been tested on humans yet?"

Alex shook his head. "Even if we did inject them into human subjects, it would take at least two or three generations for the gene modification to manifest. All we've done is computer work. Though our research has led me to believe that the radiation produced by Plants would augment the evo. . ." Alex yawned and rubbed his eyes.

Neron grabbed him by the shoulders and guided him to the door. "Go home Alex, the future can wait for tomorrow. You've got a beautiful woman waiting for you back home."

Alex tried to struggle against Neron's grasp, but the man proved to be surprisingly strong. "But I have to clean up," he protested.

Neron wouldn't be persuaded. "C'mon, get that tired spiky head home. I'll clean up the files. I haven't been an executive so long that I've forgotten how to file."

Alex opened his mouth to protest again when a giant yawn cut him off. "Good night Neron," he said as he staggered into the arms of Neron's chauffer.

"Good night my friend," Neron said. He turned to his chauffer. "Take him home, then head for home yourself. It's a nice night for a walk."

The chauffer nodded and slipped a shoulder under Alex's arm and led him off.

Neron went to the window and watched the chauffer help Alex to the limo. The chauffer climbed into the driver's seat and started up the engine. The limo rose gently and flew off into the night over the lights of New Chicago.

Neron smiled. "Brilliant and idealistic. I couldn't ask for a more perfect helper." He walked over to the desk and flipped through the reject pile. He glanced over to psychic file and the jar full of nano-machines. _Tonight would be ideal_, he thought.

He pulled out his pocket watch. _Luther and his crew should be up by now._ Neron put the watch away and pulled out a phone. "Luther," he said. The phone beeped, then a hologram projected itself in front of him. "Luther, it's ready. Tonight's the night."

The hologram nodded. "We'll be right on it boss."

* * *

The next week Neron's secretary received a phone call.

"I'm sorry Dr. Masters, Mr. Martinez is indisposed at the moment. Yes, I'll tell him. Yes, I'll make sure he meets you. Don't worry. Goodbye Dr. Masters." The secretary sent an e-mail to Neron's desk.

"Dr. Masters wants to meet you at the lab tonight."

She went back to painting her nails. Whatever Dr. Masters was so angry about wasn't any of her business.

* * *

Alex stood in front of the computer screens and leaned against the desk, breathing heavily. He was furious with himself. He knew Neron had gone along too easily.

The door opened behind him. Alex didn't even look up. "Just a sap, aren't I Neron?"

"Why Alex, whatever do you mean?"

Alex knuckles tightened. "Your boys were sloppy. They didn't bother to erase the computer records. After I traced them back, it wasn't too hard to find out what you did. You injected everything I've worked on into human subjects, without their consent, without their knowledge. What gives you the right to do such a thing?"

Neron chuckled. "Since when do I need the right to do anything? Bluesummers, Shriver, they are the recipients of your masterwork. The heritage you leave to the world."

"My greatest works went into them huh? And what about the others? I thought I made it clear the reject pile had no non-military application!"

"When did I ever say I was after non-military applications? You were hired for one purpose alone Alex, to create weapons."

"These aren't weapons Neron, they're people!"

Neron's voice drew closer. "Not anymore they're not. Now they're something different. Demons perhaps, like the Demon's Eye you so wanted to throw away. I like that actually. Humanity's demons, made by humanity's own hand, your hand. Except for one. Did you catch it? The other strain injected into Bluesummers. I must admit that it was my own little experiment. A little experiment with wolves and bats. Who knows? Maybe they'll fly one day."

"I. . . I did this, didn't I? No, you did it! You made these people into demons!" Alex shouted. He looked up into his reflection in the blank computer monitor. Besides his face, the monitor showed the entire lab behind him, with it's beakers, test tubes, and banks upon banks of computers. But no Neron.

Alex whirled around. Neron stood there, in his well-pressed suit, straightened tie, and shiny corporate shoes. Alex looked back to the monitors. Still, Neron did not appear in the reflection of the room.

Neron smirked. "Guess the cat's out of the bag." He continued to smile as two fangs came down from the top of his mouth, forcing the rest of his teeth aside. The whites of his eyes flashed red.

"You, you can't be a. . ." Alex stammered

"A what? A vampire? Check the facts Alex. Doesn't appear in mirrors, two protruding fangs, and when was the last time you saw me during the day?"

Alex steadied himself on the desk. "But, at the restaurant, you were eating with us!"

Neron chuckled. "Common misconception. Vampires can eat and drink just fine. It just provides no sustenance. It just has no taste." He pulled out a flask and took a swig. "Except for alcohol, if it's prepared right." He took another swig from the flask. "I'd offer you some but I'm afraid it's an acquired taste."

He walked up to Alex, sipping from the flask. His hand darted around and struck Alex in the neck. Every muscle in Alex's body suddenly gave up and he sank back into his chair. "Do you know what I did my first night, my first real night I mean? It must have been eighty years ago. I don't think the vampire who made me had any intention of doing so. He was too quick too feed, and let some of his blood come into me. So I found a priest, and paid him for a bottle of holy water. I tracked down the vampire that made me and caught him off guard, throwing the water into his face." Neron took another swig from the flask and screwed the top back on.

"As I stood there, watching him burn, I realized that I hadn't fed. I encountered my bloodlust for the first time and accepted my nature. I caught the vampire that had made me and drank him dry, taking his power into me. I also took this watch." He pulled the pocket watch from inside his coat and flipped it open.

"That vampire was over two-thousand years old, and yet he had been brought down in a night by a twenty-seven year old kid, newly introduced into the ways of darkness. It was then that I realized the truth about the system of life as we know it."

**SNAP!**

Neron flipped the watch closed. "If a vampire that has lived over a thousand years had become so complacent as to be brought down by me, then the whole system is too complacent. It has become too ordered, too set in its ways. Like you said, change is needed. Chaos must be injected into the system."

"And you're going to be the one that does it, right?"

Neron looked surprised. "Me? I lack a vision. I seek chaos, but have no specific chaos in mind. No, these demons you created aren't for me, they're for a man with vision, a man I'm still searching for."

Alex struggled against the muscle paralysis. He could already wiggle his fingers. "And so what happens to me?"

"Well, you obviously know too much now, I can't let you live," Neron said.

Alex could move his hands now. "And you don't need me any more now that you've injected the gene strains?"

Neron nodded and bent over a computer screen. "Exactly. All I need is a copy for my files and then that's it."

The numbness slowly lifted from Alex's arms and legs. He flexed his fingers slowly. "I guess I'm your next meal then."

Neron chuckled and shook his head. "Hardly Alex, I have too much respect for you to do that. Besides, AB negative disagrees with me."

Alex slowly stretched a hand out to the desk and stroked a panel. It slid open, revealing a small alcove. A pistol lay in there. Alex had protested until he was out of breath, but the military attaché from Project Seeds had insisted. Thanking God for the military's stubbornness, Alex plucked the gun and pointed it at Neron's head. A small red dot danced on the back of Neron's head, quaking with Alex's nervousness.

He thought of Rem. In his mind she appeared in the jeans and white cowboy shirt she had been wearing when he met her. For some reason his imagination had changed it into the full cowboy outfit. Spurs, hat, she had everything except the six-shooter. In his mind, she looked over her shoulder at him. "No one has the right to take the life of another." His arm continued to shake, and the red dot continued to dance. Slowly, the dot trailed down Neron's back and onto the floor.

Neron took a small chip from the computer's burner and slipped it into his pocket. "Good move Alex. It wouldn't have done much good anyway." He stood up and turned around. "Don't worry, I'll make sure Rem is taken care of."

He dashed forward with blinding speed. Alex yelled and brought up the pistol, but it was too late. Neron wrapped his hands around Alex's neck and twisted.

**CRACK!**

Alex slumped to the floor. The last image he had seen before Neron snapped his neck was Rem, in her cowboy outfit. She had waved to him and called out "See you later, Alex."

Neron stuck his hands into his pockets. "Well Alex, it looks like there's going to be a little accident."

* * *

The firefighters battled the conflagration valiantly, but to no avail. The lab was going to burn to the ground, and there was no way to stop it. The flames licked the night air, reaching for the moon.

Neron sat on the edge of an ambulance. His arm was in a sling and he had a large bandage on his leg. All wounds were, of course, self-inflicted.

Two firefighters held Rem back. Neron levered himself off the ambulance edge and helped pull Rem back. She tried to resist him, but he again proved to be surprisingly strong. Pulling her back to the ambulance and sat her down on the edge of the door. He pulled a handkerchief out of his suit jacket pocket and handed it to her.

"I'm sorry, Rem. I really am."

Rem sobbed into the handkerchief. "How can I go on?"

Neron sat beside her and put his arm around her. "Don't tell me you're contemplating suicide?"

Rem shook her head. "No. No, Alex disapproved of suicide more than anything." She blew her nose. "I just wonder, was this supposed to happen? Was I destined to face this pain?"

Neron patted Rem's shoulder. "My dear, nothing is destined. Nothing is set. Nothing is ever supposed to happen. Remember, your ticket to the future is always blank."

* * *

300 years later.

Neron pushed open his cold-sleep coffin and surveyed the world Earth had populated. Didn't look too habitable. Sand spread out before him, an endless ocean of desert.

Neron inspected the ship and came to conclusion that Project SEEDS hadn't quite gone as planned. This place was a barren wasteland. He flexed his fingers. "Perfect."

The vampire Neron Martinez set out into the wastes with only the five moons to see him go. He set out into the night, searching for a man with a vision.

* * *

Evans: Thirteen years ago, war erupted on Gunsmoke. Unlike the previous violence that plagued this world, this was organized, planned, war. The Cavalry fought bravely against the warlord who sought to build an empire in his name. Some say that this time was the Cavalry's finest hour, but it was also the time of its most shameful atrocities.

Next Chapter: The Lasuken Massacre


	13. The Lasuken Massacre

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Trigun

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From: Supervising Field Officers Meryl Strife and Millie Thompson

To: Bernardelli Head Office, 48 Earp Street, December City, New Arizona

Dear sirs, we must regretfully request an indefinite amount of time off. As you know, both of our children left us five years ago, and the father of my child disappeared six years earlier. While investigating the claims related to the acts of one Clarissa "Calamity" Shriver, we found information that might lead us to not only our children, but the father as well.

As such, we request time off to follow up on these rumors and clear this matter up. I apologize, but we cannot give you an exact time period for our return, but rest assured that we will.

Sincerely,

Supervising Field Officer Meryl Strife

* * *

From: Bernardelli Head Office, 48 Earp Street, December City, New Arizona

To: Supervising Field Officers Meryl Strife and Millie Thompson

Approved. Good luck, both of you.

* * *

From: General Phillip Braxler

To: Major Grinder

Of course you can let them go. It's been two months since Jenora Rock was destroyed, I don't think we need complicate their lives any further.

Although, I must admit that I do not believe that they're telling us all they know. Not that I'd blame them, if I knew anything relating to something that horrific I'd want to keep it a secret too.

Send a Cavalryman with her and her family when they leave, an officer for preference. Tell him to keep his eye on her. I don't seriously believe that she caused it, or that she's really a threat to anyone, but who trusts anybody these days?

Your good friend,

General Phillip Braxler

P.S. Tell my son he needs a haircut.

* * *

Nikki, Meryl, and Millie rode through the desert on the thomases the Cavalry had leant them. They were heading to Lasuken, the last known whereabouts of Calamity Shriver. Lasuken was a small town out on the outskirts of the Aporta province. During the Neon wars twelve years ago, it had maintained neutrality and served as a place for refugees.

Meryl turned her head slightly and whispered, "Is he still behind us?"

Nikki shrugged and inclined her head towards Millie. "I can't tell, is he still there Aunt Millie?"

Millie rotated around in her saddled and peered behind them. About 100 yarz back, a Cavalry officer was following them on a Thomas of his own. Millie waved and the officer took off his hat and waved back. The sunlight glinted off of his blue reflective sunglasses.

Nikki slapped her forehead. "Way to be subtle Aunt Millie."

Meryl thwacked her in the back of the head. "Don't be a smart-ass with Millie."

"Ow! What? You're like that with her all the time!"

"Yes, but I've known her since before you were born, so it's different when I do it."

"Freaking hell it's different. I'm twenty-one years old now, it's not like I'm the kid you cradled in your arms once. Jeeze," Nikki grumbled under her breath. Her mother glared at her but said nothing.

"Well, ain't this the happy family," Evans said as he rode up beside them. He grinned and tipped his hat.

"And how long do you intend to follow us, if I may ask?" Nikki said.

Evans shrugged. "I dunno, it's a nice day, the suns are shining, the weather is pretty good, and the company is pleasant. I just might ride with you guys for the rest of the day." He pulled out his cigar case.

"No, don't tell me you're smoking," Nikki said, pointing a finger at him.

Evans chuckled as he lit his cigar. "I'm addicted, sorry."

"How can you be addicted to cigars? You don't inhale them!"

"I dunno, I just am. I think it has something to do with my father. He smokes cigars a lot too."

Meryl and Millie watched the arguing pair with detached interest. "We should let the Lieutenant come along, it'd be entertaining at least."

Millie nodded, a pensive look on her face.

Meryl noticed her friend's thoughtfulness and asked, "What is it Millie?"

Millie shook her head slowly. "It's nothing Meryl. Just a case of deja roo."

"Deja roo?"

"Yeah, you know. The feeling that you're experiencing something that's happened before?"

Meryl sighed. Forty-four years old and Millie still acted like a seven year old sometimes. "That's déjà vu, Millie. Déjà **vu**."

* * *

Lasuken, the largest town in the province of Aporta, is nestled between several hills. It is on these hills that the local wise men lead the dances to the spirits, the spirits of the animals, the plants, and the spirit of the very desert itself. There is, however, one dune that they would never dance on. It's the largest one, overlooking the western side of the town. They do not dance there anymore, they only sing. They sing a lament every year, on this dune. And every year, on the day the entire province of Aporta comes to sing a lament, two companies of Cavalry come, and hold a funeral service.

Now a lone Cavalryman rode in to Lasuken, his head bowed. Nikki noticed that he had his hat lowered, but more than that, that he had stubbed out his cigar but not lighten a new one.

"I don't think I've ever seen you go this long without smoking," she said.

Evans half-smirked and kept riding.

The hotel was located halfway between the center of town and the largest hill. Meryl pushed open the swinging doors, Millie and Nikki right behind her. Evans stayed outside to stable their thomases.

The lobby was sparsely decorated with pictures of the days of the towns founding. People cannibalizing parts of the fallen ships to build. The days while the survivors of the Great Fall still searched for each other.

Millie and Nikki inspected the pictures while Meryl approached the front desk. The man could not have been less interested in his job. He had his feet up on the desk and his face stuck in a book. Meryl rang the bell but whatever the book was about, it was far too interesting to be interrupted by something as petty as a customer.

"Ahem!"

The man started tapping his feet. Meryl looked around and noticed that the clerk had a pair of headphones on. Meryl frowned. She didn't have time for this. She reached into her coat and pulled out a double derringer.

**BLAM!**

Nikki whirled around, her Long Colts clearing the holsters before Millie could bring the stun gun from underneath her duster. She saw her mother pointing a smoking derringer over the head of a very alert, and very frightened, clerk. Nikki holstered her guns and stared at Meryl.

"Wasn't that, a little over the top mom?"

Meryl shook her head. "Sometimes you have to be over the top to get people's attention."

"Well, now that we've got his attention, we can get a room right?" Millie asked.

Before Meryl could answer, she was preempted by the sound of a thousand guns being cocked at once, then nervous laughter.

Nikki pointed at the clerk, "Hold that thought, we'll be right with you." The three women rushed out of the inn.

It seemed like the entire town had heard the shot, and they had all come. With guns. Pointed at Evans, who had his back against the wall.

"Look, it wasn't me. I do have a gun, but it's holstered. I can't even shoot it! Really, I'm the worst shot on the planet! If I wanted to shoot you the safest place would be right in front of me!" One of the townspeople stuck his gun a little closer to Evans face. "That's IF I wanted to shoot you! It's a hypothetical!"

The townspeople said nothing, they just stood silently, their guns trained on Evans head. In the shadow of the largest dune, they barely seemed human to Nikki's eyes. But if not human, what were they?

"Look, I understand that you're still angry about it, but it was twelve years ago! I was eleven!"

Meryl frowned. She looked at the still-smoking derringer in her hand and pointed it above the crowd.

**BLAM!**

"Good, now that I've got everyone's attention, I'd like to point out that you're all acting like a bunch of idiots! You're holding him responsible for something a man who wore the same uniform did twelve years ago! In case you haven't gotten it, he was eleven. My daughter was only nine at the end of the Neon wars!"

The mob slowly turned to her. "His father caught him! The man who did this to you! It was his father who brought him to justice!" Meryl shouted.

Millie leaned towards Meryl. "He's that Braxler?"

Meryl nodded. "I asked around at the Cavalry camp. He's General Phillip Braxler's son alright."

Nikki stepped forward. "Shoot him, and you're no better then Finch was."

The townspeople turned to her. The suns, shining over the largest dune, hit her eyes. She squinted, the townspeople looked even less human now, almost eyeless. She reached into her sleeve pocket and pulled out her sunglasses. As she pulled the purple lenses over her eyes, the light from the dune was dimmed and the people started to look human again. At the same time, the townspeople lowered their weapons and walked away.

Meryl and Millie went back into the inn. Nikki walked over and stood next to Evans, who slid down the wall into a sitting position. Nikki swung her guitar around to the front and sat down against the wall beside him.

* * *

Meryl found that it was much easier to get the clerk's attention this time.

"I need two rooms please. I don't care where they are, nor do I really care about meal service."

The man nodded. "One hundred twenty double-dollars Ms."

"It's miss, and here," Meryl said, pulling some crumpled bills from her pocket.

The clerk looked at the small pile of money on the desk and shook his head. "That's a hundred twenty per _room_, miss."

"What?!"

The man held out his hands. "Not my fault miss. We don't have inside rooms, just the cabins outside. Bandits run through her every night. If you don't buy the protection, that's it for you. You're paying for your own lives."

"Why not just call out the Cavalry? You can't live in the past forever!" Millie said. "Well, at least that's what my family always says."

The clerk's face grew dark. "No, no Cavalry. Never the Cavalry. Only your friend because he's Braxler's kid."

"We'll go without the protection then," Meryl said.

The clerk shrugged and swept the money into a drawer. "Your funeral," he muttered.

* * *

Nikki pulled out a pick and strummed the guitar. She nodded towards the largest dune. "So that's where it happened?"

"Yep. That's where, at the end of the Neon wars, Captain Finch decided he didn't like the Aportans taking in refugees from both sides. Or the Aportans' religion for that matter." He took a cigar out of his case, then reached for his boot knife. He deftly cut the tip off, then brought out his lighter. "Sorry, I know you hate it, but I'm still kinda shaken."

Nikki shrugged. She was just amazed that he had apologized. She started to pluck out a tune. "So, you're General Braxler's kid? What's that like?"

Evans blew out a plume of smoke. "You should know that. You're father's a bigger legend then mine."

"Since when do you believe me?"

"Since I saw Jenora go up in smoke."

Nikki didn't answer that. It had become something of a taboo subject between the two of them. _Come to think of it, there's a lot of taboo subjects between us. We've known each other for what, two months? What happened on the hill. . .why he's following us. . .my hair._

That was a big taboo subject. Evans hadn't commented on it at all. After Legato had forced her to destroy the city, her hair had gone from blonde to black. When she woke up a week later, it had changed again. Now it was some sort of weave, with blonde and black streaks shooting through alternatively. Nobody talked about it. Nikki didn't want to explain it, because explaining it would mean explaining what she was.

_A freak._

_Well, I'm hardly the only one hiding something._ Nikki thought as she glanced over at Evan's wraparound sunglasses. _What are you hiding, Lieutenant?_

"The hill is beautiful isn't it? The dark dune I mean." A middle-aged man came up. His dark hair fell down to his shoulders, brushing his only slightly lighter skin. He looked towards Evans. "Can I have on of those buddy?"

"Sure, I'm just glad you aren't pointing a gun at me." He pulled out his case and tossed it to the man.

The man caught the case and chuckled. He selected a cigar and pulled out a knife of his own. Unlike Evans' standard issue piece of scrap metal, this knife had a carefully carved, _wooden_, handle. He swiftly clipped the tip, then held the cigar out to Evans' lighter. "Don't worry about them. They can see past their first glance at the hill. Or rather, their second glance."

He took a puff on the cigar and pointed it at the hill. "What do you see when you first look at the hill? Your perceptions unclouded by the ghosts of the past? I see a beautiful dune, framed by the setting suns. Yet, at second glance, everyone remembers the terrible history of that dune. Then, they no longer see the beautiful hill. They just see the slaughter. Yet, I think the truth is beyond the slaughter. The hill, that we saw with first glance." He chuckled and pointed the cigar at Evans. "You would do well to remember that, young Cavalryman. At least, that's what this old man thinks."

Evans nodded. "Could I see that knife of yours gramps? Blades are kinda a hobby of mine."

The man took the knife from his belt and hurled it at Evans point first. Evans didn't even blink, or at least didn't even appear to blink. His hand shot up and he caught the knife between his fingers.

The old man raised his eyebrows and puffed on the cigar. "Now, if you don't mind miss." He turned to Nikki and squatted down in front of her. "I always like to see past the second glance with people.

Nikki raised her head and continued playing her guitar. The man took her chin in his hand and stared into her eyes. Nikki shifter her hands and started playing a different tune, never shying away from the man's gaze.

The man chuckled and stood up. "Fiesty one. I haven't had anyone stare back at me like that since. . . oh since little Blayne Bluesummers was here."

Nikki stopped playing and looked up at the man. "Bluesummers?"

The man nodded sadly. "A cursed line, that one. She was always a quiet child, never really liked socializing with other humans. Spent most of her time with the wolves that ran in the canyon over yonder. Then, well, then the Neon Wars came."

Evans looked up from the knife. "She was there? At the hill?"

"Yep. Saddest thing. She watched Captain Finch do his work on her parents. After Finch was brought in, little Blayne disappeared. 'Bout a week later, the wolves left the canyons." He puffed on the cigar, dropped it on the sand, and crushed it under his shoe. "But you stare back like she does. I can't quite look beyond the second glance, because you won't let me." He turned to her. "I suggest you find for yourself what's beyond the second glance, before you start believing the second glance."

The man reached down towards Evans. "If I may have my knife back?"

Evans tossed it to the man, who caught it with ease. "That handle must've been expensive. What kind of wood is it?"

"Cypress," the man said. He turned down the street and walked off towards the hill. The wind kicked up, blowing sand across the street. When the sand cleared, the man was gone.

"How mysterious," Nikki said.

"And in a way, cliché."

Nikki stood up and swung the guitar around to her back. "It's getting pretty dark, we should go in."

Evans nodded and levered himself up as Nikki reached for the doorknob. She frowned and jiggled it for a few seconds. "Is there any reason that this door should be locked?"

* * *

Meryl and Millie were sitting on the couch in the inn/lobby waiting for Evans and Nikki to come in when they heard a clicking noise. They looked up to see the desk clerk locking the door.

"What are you doing?" Meryl asked.

"Sorry miss, but the bandits will be coming any minute. I gotta lock the door."

Meryl's eyes narrowed. "My daughter's still out there."

The clerk shrugged. "Be that as it may, the bandits are coming any minute, and I'm not about to open the door."

Millie brought out her stun gun. "That's okay."

The clerk looked at her wide-eyed. "It is?"

Millie nodded. "We don't have to go through the door."

Evans grabbed the doorknob and heaved backwards. "Damn, sturdy, craftsmanship! Why can't they make it crappy and weak, like in the city?"

A stun bolt came flying through the window, shattering the glass in a halo. Millie poked her head out. "C'mon you two, get in here, bandits are coming!"

Evans let go of the door handle and pulled out a cigar. He clipped it with his boot knife. "Bandits?" he asked, lighting his cigar.

Nikki lowered her head. "You don't have to get involved Evans."

"I know."

"They don't want your help."

"I know."

Nikki smiled. "Good answer."

Millie turned around. "They're not coming Meryl!"

"Did you expect them to?" Meryl shouted back. A chair came crashing through the other window. Evans picked it up and tossed it back in.

"Gonna snipe from inside the building?"

Meryl picked the chair up from the floor and placed it in front of the window. "There it is, that amazing Cavalry tactical mentality at work."

"Vash the Stampede, not a very ironic, sarcastic person, is he?"

Meryl's eyes widened. "No he's not, how did you know that?"

"Well, Nikki obviously picked that trait up from you. I figured no other bitingly sarcastic person could put up with it."

**SMACK!**

**SMACK!******

"Owwww."

* * *

When the bandits rode through the town, they weren't really expecting to do anything. The town had learned the hard way that not paying up ahead of time resulted in a drastic and sudden loss of blood.

One of the bandits in the back of the truck turned to his friend. "Does anyone besides me hear a guitar?"

His friend raised his head. "Yeah, I hear it too."

"Whoever it is, they're good."

One of the bandits twisted around and saw Nikki leaning against a building playing her guitar. The bandit smiled. "I got this one." He vaulted over the side of the truck and approached Nikki.

"Nice playing, little miss."

Nikki smiled. "Why thank you. I try."

The bandit smiled back. "Well, it's very good. It's a shame, but I've got to ask ya for all your money. Otherwise, I'm gonna have to kill ya, and I wouldn't want to do that."

Nikki stopped playing and stared at the man, dumb-struck. "You'd kill me? How, like with that gun?" She asked, pointing to the automatic on the man's hip.

The other men in the truck turned around, pulling their guns. "Yeah, exactly like that."

"How awful!" Nikki said. Her hand shot out and snatched the automatic from the bandit's holster. She quickly discharged all seven shots, aiming for the bandits' drawn guns. When the clip ran out she clouted the bandit over the head and dropped the automatic.

The other bandits stared at the girl in shock. What the hell was going on? Nikki chuckled and swung the guitar around to her back. "You boys look like you haven't haven't been fired on in a while now." Her hands darted inside her jacket and came out with the red and green Long Colts.

"Quick, start the car! We gotta find the boss!"

The driver fumbled with the key, his hands shaking under the black and blonde haired girl's gaze. When he found the key and looked up, and even greater surprise met him.

"The Cavalry, here?"

Evans stood down the street, framed by the shadowy outline of the dune. His sunglasses reflected the truck's headlights, making his eyes appear to glow. He slowly reached for his sword hilt, then drew it like a typhoon, cutting across the open air. The shockwave blasted down the street, rocking the truck back in front of the inn.

**KA-CHUNK!**

**KA-CHUNK!**

Two stun bolts flew from the broken window, slamming into the side of the truck. The force of the impact pushed the truck up onto two wheels, but for a second it looked like it might right itself.

**KA-CHUNK!**

Another stun bolt came flying from the window and hit the truck. The bandits went flying as the truck slowly tipped over. Face down in the dirt, they looked up into the barrels of Nikki's Long Colts. She grinned. "Hiya."

Evans sheathed his sword and pulled out a cigar. He retrieved his boot knife and cut off the tip.

**BLAM!**

The bullet hit Evans' knife, shattering it all over the street. Evans' grimaced. "Stupid government issue piece of shit." He lit his cigar and looked up towards Nikki. "There's more of 'em."

"Oh good, this was too easy to be any fun." She opened her Long Colts, revealing them to be completely empty. Her hands darted back to the guitar and came back with fully loaded guns. She turned towards Evans. "They're right behind you, you know that?"

Evans nodded. "You're covering me. There's some coming up on your left, you know that?"

"My mom's covering me."

"You have no idea how weird that sounds."

* * *

There was little reward, little fanfare. There were free rooms, replacement ammo, and offers of discount traveling food. Which they gratefully took, not wanting to risk Evans' travel cooking. That was it. No thank yous, just a silent reward. Nikki and Meryl complained and grumbled, while Millie watched Evans stand silently in the corner. "People don't change easily, Lieutenant,"

Evans looked up. "I know, Miss Thompson."

"Quick calling me that! You're making me feel like an old mother. Then again, I am sort of an old mother. Isn't that weird?"

Evans smiled. "Yes, it is Miss Thompson." He pulled out a cigar and reached for his boot knife. He pulled it out in one smooth gesture, then did a double take. "Wait a minute, didn't, didn't I lose mine?"

Millie took from the startled Evans and turned it over in the light. "This is nice, Lieutenant. Where did you get it?"

"It, it looks like the one that man had yesterday."

"Really? Did he have long dark hair? About my age?"

Evans nodded, confused. "Do you know him?"

"No, but I saw him up on the dune yesterday. You know, the big one. What kind of wood do you think this is?"

"Cypress."

"Really? I don't think you can grow cypress on this planet. Hey Meryl!"

Meryl turned from haggling with the general store manager. "What is it Millie?"

"Can you grow cypress on this planet?"

Meryl put her hands on her hips. "Millie, cypress is a tree from back on Old Earth. It grows in water, this planet is covered in desert. Not even a Geoplant could make a cypress grow here."

"Then where did that man get it I wonder?"

Evans chuckled. "We may never know, Miss Thompson. We may never know."

* * *

Wolfwood: Two men stand in the dusty street. They stand there, loading their guns and staring at the clock. Soon, high noon will come for these two men, but my greatest fear is that all of Gunsmoke, the men, the women, the soldiers, the outlaws, the old and the young, will all be caught in the crossfire. Next chapter: Crossfire


	14. Crossfire

* * *

Let's seeee. What don't I own? Trigun, and all of its characters. Oh yeah, and the idea of calling vampires "Caineites" comes from White Wolf Publishing.  
  
####################################################################  
  
On some nights, the darkness of the desert can be absolute. Nights when none of the five moons shine, when only the stars bring light to the sand. On one of these nights, figures clad in black slid towards the crashed ship.  
  
The crashed ship in question is called New Transylvania, last bastion of the vampires. Normally they are solitary creatures by nature. There is no companionship; there is only competition for prey. The Great Fall changed all that, a world with two suns is not a friendly place for the creatures of the night. Now the only way they could survive was to band together, and that was what New Transylvania was for, a place where they could meet when they had to. Tonight, a night without light, was one of those nights. It would also be the last.  
  
The men and women clad in black advanced towards the Ship, while inside the ship, a man clad in shadows slipped through halls. Not even the vampires saw the man of shadows moving through their halls. They had no idea that anything was out of the ordinary.  
  
"There are greater evils in the world then the children of the night," Martinez said to Legato as they stood on a cliff overlooking the ship. "I above all others should know this."  
  


* * *

Open-air markets are like oceans, even at night. The people, potential customers, are the drops in the oceans, swelling, receding, constantly moving. Every stall is an island in this sea of consumerism; people break upon these stalls like waves break on a beach. Then they recede, looking for a better deal, lower price, more features. The bars are safe harbors, places where a drop in this ocean can stay for a bit, in calmer waters. Perhaps even stay there all night.  
  
Of course, this metaphor is completely lost on the people of Gunsmoke.  
  
As one of the waves of consumers crashed upon a stall, two hands slipped out and grabbed a pair of sandwiches from a food stall. Nobody noticed. It was like when a wave takes shells from the sand on a beach. Nobody notices unless they're watching the shells. And nobody was watching the shells.  
  
The hands receded with the wave and headed for a safe cove. This particular cove was becoming quite crowded. The most popular coves are the ones that are offering entertainment. Calamity pushed her way through the crowds to the table in the center. Jeremiah sat there, rubbing his arm.  
  
"Got you a snack," Calamity said.  
  
Jeremiah looked toward his next opponent. The large man nodded graciously. Jeremiah thanked him and turned to Calamity, who handed him the sandwich. "Do I want to know how you got this?" He asked.  
  
"If I tell you, you might not eat it."  
  
Jeremiah grimaced, but dug into the sandwich anyway. "You know, I'm not arm wrestling all these guys for the fun of it, I'm doing it because we're broke. I just feel that it's more honorable then all your stealing."  
  
Calamity smiled and patted Jeremiah on the cheek. "Of course it is, that's why I do the stealing. I wouldn't want you to impugn your honor in any way." She took a bite out of her sandwich and nodded her head to the still waiting challenger. "This guy's the town favorite," she whispered. "Never been beaten. Apparently he lifts the tail ends of cars over his head for exercise."  
  
Jeremiah swallowed the rest of his sandwich. "Well, yeah he's the town favorite. He's about my height and at least seventy pounds heavier. What are the odds?"  
  
"For you? Ten to one."  
  
"Really? That good? Why don't you go and bet all we got. With any luck we might get enough to get a cabin on the steamer and a room with a shower at the hotel tonight."  
  
"If they pay up that is."  
  
Jeremiah motioned to the challenger, who heaved a forearm as big around as Jeremiah's torso onto the table. "I'm sure you'll find a way," he said as he clasped the giant's hand. "That hopefully doesn't involve too much property damage," he added.

* * *

The man clad in shadow crawled silently across the ceiling. When it came to guarding against infiltration, vampires were, quite frankly, rank amateurs. They were so caught up in their own arrogance and so full of their amazing powers, they didn't even bother to think what someone with actual skill could do.  
  
A pair of vampires passed under the shadow man, who froze immediately.  
  
"Whaddya think the Lord wants to tell us this time?" one said.  
  
"Didn't you hear? The last werewolf died yesterday. I'm sure the Lord wishes to discuss our future."  
  
"Future? Don't make me laugh, buddy. We ain't got no future here. You saw what happened to the werewolves, they were driven crazy by the ever changing moons. Have you seen a werewolf out when it was a full moon and a new moon at the same time? I have." The vampire shuddered.  
  
"Don't worry about the werewolves. Dirty beasts, barely worthy to be in our presence, let alone live with us."  
  
The other vampire chuckled, and they both moved on down another corridor. The man clad in shadow shook his head. It was just as Neron had said, the vampires had become too caught up in their own superiority, even here, after the Great Fall had changed everything.  
  
"Raifen, is everything alright?" a voice whispered in his ear.  
  
Raifen inclined his head ever so slightly towards his collar. "I'm fine Zarlina, you don't have to worry about me." He started crawling again, ever closer to the vault.  
  
"Just remember, if you die, your order dies with you. You are all that is left."  
  
Raifen smiled. "And if I die, Knives won't be able to pull off this stunt he's planning. And then you won't have your revenge, will you?"  
  
"How sweet of you to think of me, Raifen."  
  
"Same for you, Zarlina," Raifen whispered back. _It's not like anybody else will._  
  


* * *

"See? You didn't have to blow anything up to get them to pay up."  
  
"Yeah, I guess."  
  
Jeremiah chuckled. "Don't sound too disappointed. Isn't this better then stealing it?"  
  
Calamity accepted the room key from the clerk and tramped upstairs. "It's safer I guess, but it kinda lacks the thrill."  
  
Jeremiah hefted his cross and followed her. "Maybe not for you, but I was in definite danger of having my arm ripped off."  
  
Calamity shook her head. "Who are you kidding? With the exception of that last guy, none of them stood a thomas' chance in a typhoon against you." She stopped at a room and unlocked the door. "Great, the lights are off." Her hands brushed the wall. "Where's the damn light switch?"  
  
Jeremiah came up behind her, eyes glowing. "It's on the other side of the room. How stupid is that?" He pushed by her and leaned his cross on the wall. He worked his way over to the room and flipped on the light. "What the hell was the room designer thinking?" he asked as he turned around. Calamity stood there in silence, staring at his glowing eyes. "That's the first time you've used that since. . ."  
  
Jeremiah sat on the edge of one of the beds. "Since Jenora? Yeah, I guess it is."  
  
Calamity shooed him to the side and sat next to him. "Guess those aren't your real eyes, eh?"  
  
Jeremiah chuckled mirthlessly. "What gave it away?"  
  
Calamity slowly reached out and brushed her hands across his face. "Scars. Small ones, but they're there. Did it hurt?"  
  
"Yeah, it did."  
  
Calamity pulled her hands away and pulled her legs up on the bed. She swiveled around on the bed and leaned against the bedpost, pulling her knees to her chest. "Why did you have it done?"  
  
Jeremiah hung his head. "I don't really know anymore. Danil did it to me when I was eighteen. Said it would bring me closer to God, and therefore closer to my father. 'Los ojos del Dios', or something like that."  
  
Calamity lowered her head. "Danil? That man at Christmas City?"  
  
Jeremiah nodded.  
  
"He's the scariest man I've ever seen. His eyes glow like yours, but his light has no warmth. When he looks at you, it's like. . . It's like he knows everything wrong you've ever done in your life, and he's going to punish you for it. Who is he?"  
  
Jeremiah shook his head. "Who is he? He's Father Raphael Danil, and he's everything you said he was. But if I'm going to tell you about Father Danil, I have to tell you about The Flock."  
  
"The Flock?"  
  


* * *

The two vampires Raifen had been listening to made their way to the converted grand hall. This took a while, as the old abandoned ship was a maze of corridors and darkened areas. Not that the dark bothered the vampires that much.  
  
The pair were arguing over which way was the quickest when they nearly ran into a group of black clad figures. There were seven of them standing there, all wielding strange guns. About the length of a rifle, with a round thin barrel and a pistol grip. Right in front the trigger guard, a box was snapped into place. The leader of the group raised his gun to the vampire's head.  
  
The threatened vampire chuckled. "What are you doing, boy? You can't kill a vampire with regular bullets."  
  
His compatriot joined in the laughter. "And besides, if even you're shooting blessed bullets from blessed gun, which I doubt, the noise would bring every single bloodsucker in this ship down on you."  
  
The leader of black clad figures smirked. "Well, then it's a good thing we're not using bullets is it?"  
  
All the vampires saw before the final sleep took hold of them, for good this time, was green light.  
  


* * *

Wolfwood struck a match on his shoe and lit a cigarette. "Will you hurry up in there!" He shouted to Vash.  
  
"Patience is a virtue buddy!" Vash shouted back through the curtain.  
  
"So is me not coming in there and smackin' ya around!" He took a drag on his cigarette. "Why do we have to go through with this anyway? Isn't that red coat you're always wearing enough for you?"  
  
"It draws too much attention! We don't want Knives watching us like he was last time!"  
  
"THAT WAS ME WATCHING YOU, YOU IDIOT!"  
  
"Whatever. It's time for a change of style anyway," Vash said as he stepped out of the changing room. "Well, what do you think?"  
  
Wolfwood dropped his cigarette on the floor and crushed it under his shoe. "It's exactly the same, only black."  
  
Vash turned around and looked at himself in the mirror. "Yeah, it'll be kinda hot, but I thought to myself, 'Hey, Wolfwood does it, I can do it too.' I do wish there was some red in it. I like red."  
  
"Red is the color of blood Vash."  
  
"Yeah, but it's also the color of determination."  
  
Wolfwood laughed. "I guess it is." He walked over to a sunglasses stand and spun it around. He selected a pair and tossed them to Vash. "Here, see if these suit you."  
  
"They're just like my old ones, only. . ."  
  
"Only red, yeah. Happy?"  
  
Vash slipped on the glasses. "Yeah, actually."  
  
"Good. Let's pay for your stuff and get some food, I'm dyin here." Wolfwood counted out some money and laid it on the counter. "Let's go Vash. Vash?"  
  
Vash stared at Wolfwood uncomfortably. "Wolfwood, don't talk about you dying anymore, okay?"  
  
Wolfwood grinned sheepishly. "Sorry."  
  
They stepped onto the busy street. It was about seven thirty, and the streets were still crowded with people. It wouldn't be until later that they would scatter into the bars and more or less stay there the night.  
  
"Hey look! Doughnuts!"  
  
"Didn't we have doughnuts for breakfast?"  
  
"Doughnuts are good for all meals! Breakfast, lunch, dinner, tea, dessert, midnight snacks, early morning snacks-"  
  
"Alright, I get the picture, we'll have doughnuts."  
  
"Sweet!"  
  
Vash dashed through the door and up to the counter. "I'll have, err. . . three boxes of doughnuts."  
  
"What type?"  
  
"Oh, just chuck a couple of everything in there."  
  
The man behind the counter nodded. "Three variety assortments coming up." He took three boxes, deftly slid the doughnuts in, and handed them to Vash. "That'll be fifteen double-dollars and sixty sea cents."  
  
Vash dug around in his pocket before he realized that Wolfwood had all the money. "Hey, Wolfwood!"  
  
The chain-smoking priest sauntered in. "I was wondering how long it would take before you realized you had no money," he said, paying the clerk.  
  
The two men left the shop and sat down on a bench across the street. Vash offered a box to Wolfwood, who declined. "I'll have some later."  
  
Vash shrugged and ripped open the first box.  
  
Wolfwood chuckled and lit a cigarette. "Some things never change," he muttered. "Thank God for those things."  
  
He looked back up towards Vash to see that he hadn't touched a single doughnut yet. He was just staring into the box, with teary eyes. "You know who else really likes doughnuts?" he asked.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Nikki. She really loves doughnuts. Almost as much as me." A single tear drop fell from his eye.  
  
"Vash, don't worry about her. If she's anything like you or Meryl, she's fine. We would have read about it in the paper if she had been killed."  
  
Vash nodded and choked back any further tears. "Yeah, I suppose you're right. She's stronger then me, I can tell you that much."  
  
"There ya go then."  
  
Vash smiled. "Yeah, there you go." He reached into the box and grabbed a doughnut. "Yummy."  
  
Wolfwood nodded and continued smoking. "Vash?"  
  
"Mwes?" Vash answered through a doughnut.  
  
"What's my son like?"  
  
Vash swallowed and put down the doughnut he was holding. "Jeremiah? He looks a lot like you. I mean a lot like you. He's got Millie's eye and hair color, but other than that, looking at his face is like looking at your face." He bolted down another doughnut. "Tall kid, though kinda skinny. The last time I saw him, he was taller than you, and that was about five years ago."  
  
Wolfwood dropped his spent cigarette and pulled out a new one. "Yeah, but I don't really care what he looks like, I want to know what he's like. I mean, is he a good kid? Please tell me he's more like his mother."  
  
Vash tossed the first box into the trash can and opened the second. "He's a good kid. I guess he's a bit like both of you in some ways. He's definitely got Millie's drive to do what's right, but when he sets about doing it, he's just like you. Always follows it through to the end. I remember when he and Nikki were nine, she got pushed down by a couple of kids at school. Jeremiah came home with a couple of cuts, the other kids came home with black eyes."  
  
Wolfwood chuckled. "Yeah, that does sound like me."  
  
"He was only sixteen the last time I saw him, so he may have changed."  
  
Wolfwood shrugged. "As long as he didn't up with The Flock like I did, I'm happy."  
  
Vash turned to Wolfwood. "What's The Flock?"  
  


* * *

All leaders have ministers, even undead ones. The leader of the vampires had four. They were his cabinet, his council and the four most powerful vampires aside from himself. His Vampire Lords.  
  
"So, what is the Master going to tell everyone?" a vampire in the robes of a medieval monk asked.  
  
A woman in Reniassance clothing shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, Roland. I can't read his mind, nor do I wish to.  
  
A little boy perched on the edge of a table snickered. "No, you wouldn't, would you Laela? Too afraid of what you see?" He stood on the table and clasped his hands by his cheek, striking a romantic pose. "'Oh Master, please, be my love for all nights! Forever and ever until the number twenty-one come and all vampires come to an end!'"  
  
A man dressed as a gladiator smacked him in the back of the head. "You're over a thousand years old, Michael. Try to act like it."  
  
"Age doesn't mean maturity," a voice said. The Vampire Lords spun around to see a man leaning against the door frame. Tall, with black hair that matched his black shirt and pants. He had a cross shaped long sword strapped to his back over a coat that swirled with all colors the human imagination could possibly think of. He straightened himself and pointed at the gladiator vampire. "You look like a challenge. I'll fight you."  
  
"What?" Laela asked. "Who the hell are you?"  
  
The man chuckled. "I am known as Brother Joseph, one of humanity's demons."  
  
"N-Neron? You work for Neron?"  
  
Joseph grimaced. "Neron? No, I don't work for him, or that false angel he calls a boss. I work for God, as does my compatriot, Sister Ophelia."  
  
A woman dressed entirely in black entered the room. Her long purple hair brushed her mid-back She stood next to Joseph. Well, perhaps stood is not the best word choice. She floated, her feet dangling three inches above the ground. She had a black long-sleeved her coat in the same cut as her companion's, but with a turned-up collar.  
  
"Pardon the dramatisim of the floating, but Sister Ophelia lost the use of her legs during the Neon Wars, as well as her vocal chords."  
  
Laela walked up to the floating woman and peered at her. "So she can't talk?"  
  
Ophelia turned her head towards the small vampire. She reached into her coat pocket and brought out a pack of cards. She shuffled them absentmindedly as she stared back into the vampires gaze. A voice echoed through the room. "Are you familiar with the tarot, monster?"  
  
Laela grinned, baring her fangs. "Ahhh, so the mute can speak. It must be a mage. Yes, mage, I am familiar with the tarot. It was a device used by petty fortune-tellers to try and divine the futures of any idiot who wanted to know what it held. I doubt anyone lives who knows their true significance, or even how to truly read them."  
  
Ophelia pulled the top card and flipped it through her fingers. "Then you should be familiar with this card then." She flipped it face forward to the vampire. There was blinding flash of light and an unearthly shriek that roused the spirits for miles away. When the light faded, Laela was gone, replaced by a pile of ash, with a tarot card lying in the ash. Two young children on a wall, their arms outstretched to a sun.  
  
Ophelia smiled. "The Sun Card works so wonderfully on you vampires. Shame it's only got one shot in it before it has to be recharged though."  
  
The gladiator vampire roared. "I will crush you, you magi bitch!" He drew his sword and dashed towards her. Ophelia could barely see him coming, but she didn't even bat an eye.  
  
**CLANG!!!!**  
  
Joseph stood between them, his cross-shaped long sword holding black the gladiator's sword. "I told you, I'm fighting you, not her." He gave slightly in an attempt to make the gladiator overstep, but the vampire had centuries of combat experience, and simply moved backwards. His hand shot out and grabbed Joseph by the collar of his multi-colored coat.  
  
"What do you think you are? Going up against a vampire lord? I don't care if you are one of Neron Martinez's demons, you can't destroy all of us!"  
  
Joseph grinned. "Is that so? I could see how you could believe that, but I don't think you know all the facts. Here, let me show you the light." There was another, much smaller, flash of light, and the gladiator screamed and dropped Joseph. He fell to the floor, clutching his eyes.  
  
"What, what did you do?"  
  
Joseph walked around the crumpled vampire. "You never listen. I'm one of humanity's demons. I showed you the light. Unfortunately, it was too much for your eyes. You'll be blind for the rest of your unlife. The good news is, that won't be too long." He stabbed the gladiator vampire through the chest with his sword. There vampire roared at Joseph, then melted around the blade. Joseph pulled the blade out and swung it around a couple of times. "Consecrated in a church, no less. Who wants to go next?" He turned to find that he was talking to empty air. Michael and Roland had escaped through the now broken window.  
  
Ophelia retrieved her card and looked at Joseph. "I don't think they will get very far."  
  
Joseph wiped his sword on a tablecloth. "What makes you say that?"  
  
Opehlia pulled another card from her pack. It showed a woman standing next to a tree, with the words "THE LOVERS" written along the top, and was glowing red.  
  
"Pardon me for being critical, but the phrase 'lovers' implied plural. Where's the other one?"  
  
Ophelia put the card back in the deck. "Johnny's got it, and if Johnny's here, it's a safe bet to assume that Blayne is here, or even Legato and Martinez."  
  
Joseph nodded. "Let evil kill evil then, we have other things to deal with."  
  


* * *

"The Flock has one basic principal that they live by, 'you sin, you die'. There's nothing more to it. They were born from a distrust of the federal government and a hatred for this planet. The growing feeling was that we deserved this planet, as a punishment for all our sin."  
  
Calamity stared at him. "So all sins merit death?"  
  
Jeremiah nodded. "They want to cleanse this world of sin. They figure the best way to do that is to kill the sinner."  
  
"So, theft?"  
  
"Death."  
  
"Murder?"  
  
"Death."  
  
"Pre-marital relations?"  
  
"Death."  
  
"Er. . .I dunno, homosexuality?"  
  
"Death."  
  
"You do anything, and it's death," Calamity said. She hung her head. "So much death. They call themselves a religious group?"  
  
"Actually, there is one crime that doesn't merit a death sentence."  
  
"And that is?"  
  
Jeremiah chuckled mirthlessly. "If you're a plant technician. In which case they kill your family, torture you, then kill you."  
  
Calamity raised an eyebrow. "Plant technician? What's so bad about being a Plant technician?"  
  
"The thing that Danil and the Flock hate more than any sinner, is a Plant. To them Plants exemplify how we have turned away from God. 'False angels,' Father Danil calls them, or 'false lights'. Joseph and Ophelia prefer the name 'the Great Deceivers'."  
  
"Ophelia? Would that be Ophelia Drysdale? Kinda good lookin'? Purple hair? That was the main that I remember about her, don't see purple hair too much."  
  
"Yeah, you know her?"  
  
"Kind of. So, how were they able to give you those eyes? Why are they such a threat?"  
  


* * *

Raifen paused, holding his breath. Those screams had rocked the entire ship, but nobody was responding. Raifen could only surmise that that was because everyone else was dead. Again.  
  
He inclined his head. "Zarlina, tell Legato that the Flock is here."  
  
**We already knew that Raifen. Obtain the Geoformer and escape the ship. The Flock may or may not already know that we are already here, but I see no reason to inform them of our presence. Don't fail your contract Raifen. You know what failure means.  
  
**_Seppukku, I know. I won't fail you master.  
_  
**I don't believe you will Raifen.  
**  
Raifen nodded and swiped the Geoformer into his rucksack. He quickly glanced around, threw the rucksack over his back, and then slipped out of the door, undistinguishable from the shadow that the vampires love so much.  
  
He slipped down a corridor and ducked into a room. It appeared to be the Master Vampire's private quarters. He didn't appear to be very into decoration, but the upside-down cross over the coffin was a dead give away. Martinez had warned him about that. No matter, it had a window, and that was all Raifen needed. Suddenly, Raifen heard footsteps in the corridor. Vampires could be quiet if they wanted to, but the Master Vampire would have no reason to want to, and if it was anybody else, Raifen was pretty sure he didn't want to meet them.  
  
The room offered plenty of shadow, but Raifen knew it would be pointless against the Master Vampire. _Damn, of all the times. . ._ Raifen concentrated, and started a low chant. The greatest secret of his order, the ability to disappear from all physical sight completely.  
  
Unfortunately, there was a drawback. _Removing yourself from physical sight places you in view of mental sight. _All the ghosts in the area were going to see him, and vice-versa. It was not that he was worried about them giving him away, but if his suspicions were correct and the Flock was indeed here, then there should be more angry vampire ghosts then he could shake his katana at.  
  
A very angry vampire burst into the room and looked around. He was quite the dandy, dressed in the nicest clothes money could buy on Gunsmoke, with a million double dollar hair cut. He carried himself with dignity and confidence. Living so long had given him the habit of talking to himself though.  
  
"No, this can't be happening. We can't be brought down by a bunch of humans like this. When we end, the world ends! Everyone knows that!"  
  
"Really? It doesn't appear to be in here," Joseph said as he entered the room. He was holding a large book in his hands. He slammed it shut and placed it gently by his side.  
  
The vampire spun around and hissed. "You think you can destroy us? As long as one survives, we will go on."  
  
"We know that," Ophelia projected. She floated in and took a position on the other side of the doorway, constantly shuffling her tarot deck. "That's why we've killed all the others. Even your precious Vampire Lords."  
  
The vampire smiled slowly. "And you think that means you can defeat me? Me who has lived since the Great Flood? I was there when your precious savior was crucified. I was there when the empire that destroyed him fell. I survived four World Wars, and I survived the Great Fall. What makes you think that you can defeat me?"  
  
Ophelia shook her head. "Not us." She pulled a card from the top of her deck. The Hierophant.  
  
The vampire arched and eyebrow. "The High Priest? You're boss is going to defeat me?"  
  
Joseph unsheathed his long sword and knelt on the ground, holding the long sword out in front of him, point down. On the other side of the doorway, Ophelia bowed her head a floated a few inches lower.  
  
A man entered the room. Fairly tall, he appeared to be about 6'3", give or take an inch. His hair was completely gray, but despite his apparent age, his body was tensed like a steel spring. He was dressed exactly the same as the rest of his Flock, black pants, white shirt, black jacket, cross shaped cuff links, with two exceptions. One, he had a golden cross embroidered on the back of his jacket, and two, he had a starched white collar around his throat.  
  
Father Danil slowly approached the vampire, spinning a cross shaped pistol in one hand. "Well, monster. Aren't you going to fight me? C'mon, I'd like to see how I fair against an overlord of darkness, or whatever it is you call yourself."  
  
The vampire burst out laughing. Tears rolling from his eyes, he pointed at Danil. "You expect to beat me with those pathetic cross guns of yours? You didn't even bother to bring a blaster? Where did you get those, if I may ask?"  
  
Danil smiled. "Where we got them is not really your concern. But you are right, it wouldn't be fair for me to use these on you yet." He opened his coat and placed the pistol in his harness, were it rested with five other crosses. Danil smiled, then gestured to the vampire.  
  
The vampire roared and flew at Danil faster then Joseph or Ophelia could ever hope to see. Father Danil's hand flashed up, and a wooden stake grew out of the vampire's chest. It fell to the floor motionless. Father Danil placed his hands behind his back and walked up to it.  
  
"Know, don't pretend you aren't dead, because I know that wooden stakes don't kill you. It's just keeping you still long enough that I can get a word in edgewise." He bent down and pulled the vampire up by the collar. "I think I know what can be done for you. You see, I know that you were there for all the events depicted in the Bible, but it's been over two thousand years. Maybe you need a refresher course." He motioned towards Joseph, who stood up and sheathed his sword. He picked up the large Bible and threw it open on the coffin.  
  
Raifen grimaced under his cloak of invisibility. He knew what they were going to do.  
  
Danil dragged the paralyzed vampire to the coffin, talking to him all the way. "You see, the way I see it is, you did managed to survive all those wars and trials, but at no point during that time did you have to survive me." He lifted the vampire's head up and slammed it down into the open Bible.  
  
There was a flash, then a disturbing sizzling sound. The vampire's body convulsed, and the stake dropped out. His hand flew to the coffin and he tried to push himself away from the book, but Father Danil held it firm. After this had gone on for thirty seconds, Father Danil threw the vampire's body to the floor. He drew two of his cross-shaped pistols and pointed them at the twitching vampire.  
  
"When you get to hell, look up my cousin. Tell him that I'm continuing the good work."  
  
**BLAM!  
  
BLAM!  
  
BLAM!  
  
BLAM!  
  
BLAM!  
  
BLAM!  
**  
The vampire stopped twitching and Father Danil holstered his guns. "So dies the greatest of the vampires." He looked towards Ophelia. "Any human prisoners?"  
  
A small black cat suddenly leapt over the coffin and ran to Ophelia, who put her deck away and scooped up the cat. "Some. A couple of bandits, some brothel maids, and a plant tech of all things."  
  
Danil nodded then towards Joseph. "Tie them up and then blow the place. Legato and his blood-sucking friend will surely have already taken the Geoformer. This exercise was never intended to take it for ourselves, but to remind Knives that we are still here. We'll just have to go after the other one."  
  
The trio left the room, and Raifen breathed a sigh of relief. He dropped his cloak of shadow and escaped through the window, having no wish to see either the Flock or the Master Vampire's ghost.  
  
"Are the really that big a threat?" Vash asked, opening the third box. He placed it between himself and Wolfwood. "I mean, they can't have more people then the Cavalry, can they?"

* * *

"No they don't have that many people, but then, they don't need to," Wolfwood answered, dropping his cigarette. He reached for a doughnut.  
  
"What do they have?" Vash asked.  
  
"Vash, you were on the ships before they crashed, yeah?"  
  
Vash nodded and stuffed a doughnut in his mouth.  
  
"And bein' the good little boys that you are, I'm sure you and your crazy brother used the data base judiciously." He swallowed the doughnut. "But did you actually ever look for the databanks the data was held in?"  
  
Vash shook his head. "It wouldn't have been there. It was all stored on the main computer on a different ship. It crashed along with the other ships before the Great Fall and. . . was never recovered. . ." Vash's hand stopped as it reached for another doughnut.  
  
Wolfwood smiled. "Exactly. The Flock found it, and everything on it. Weapons data, medical info, even the lost lore of the magi, they found freaking everything on those computers."  
  
Vash nodded. "How do you know all this Wolfwood? I've been around a lot longer then you have and I've never heard of these guys."  
  
Wolfwood shrugged. "Of course you haven't, they go out of their way to avoid you. Didn't you hear me tell you that they hate Plants? The record of your birth was on the database too. As to how I know all this, well, it's because I've seen the ship myself."  
  
Vash arched his eyebrows. "You seemed pretty surprised by the flying ship when you went in it."  
  
"I seemed a lot of things around that time. Most of them were true at the end. Anyway, you remember my mentor, Chapel the Evergreen? Well he's the cousin of The Flock's leader, Father Danil. When he took me in, the entire Flock took me in. I was trained at their facilities, with all of their weaponry. Well, one fine day Chapel splits with Danil, and takes me with him. Nobody's really sure why Chapel split from his cousin, the only person who really knows is probably dead. I can't really see Legato or Knives letting him live."  
  
Vash sighed and put his head in his hands. "And here I was thinking my only enemy was Knives."  
  
Wolfwood chuckled and reached for the last doughnut. "It's never that easy, my friend."

* * *

Michael and Roland fled into the night. Never before in their long afterlives had they felt such fear in their hearts. Not even when the Master Vampire had been angry with them, there had never been such a feeling of certainty that this was the end.  
  
They were so blinded with fear that neither of them noticed the dark figure until they slammed into it. Michael catapulted back into Roland, throwing both of them to the ground. Roland untalged himself from Michael's flailing form and looked up at the mysterious figure. "N-n-n- Neron!" he stammered.  
  
Martinez smiled. "Actually, I'm going by Martinez these days."  
  
Roland stood up and brushed the sand off of his robe. "Are you going to try and kill us?"  
  
Martinez shrugged. "The thought has crossed my mind."  
  
Michael laughed. "You cannot defeat both of us by yourself, Neron. You couldn't even defeat one of us by yourself."  
  
Martinez nodded. "You're right." He pointed behind the pair. "But he can."  
  
Before they could turn around, something took over their minds. Their bodies froze up, and they fell back to the sands.  
  
"And you call yourselves superior. It's pathetic."  
  
Legato stepped out of the shadows behind them. He glared down at the trembling vampires. "I sense fear in you, the fear every inferior creature feels when it is faced with the sudden and shocking realization that there something greater than it. Think on this, I may be greater than you, but I serve one even greater than me.  
  
Michael spat at Legato than turned to Martinez. "Is this one of your demons, Neron?"  
  
"I told you, it's Martinez. Legato here is certainly one of my greatest successes, but he's hardly mine. His master is another."  
  
"Who?" Roland asked.  
  
Two cross-shaped daggers flew from the darkness into the sand between the vampires.  
  
"Knives," Johnny said as he emerged from the darkness. Blayne followed him, her wolf close behind. Next came a sickly looking woman dressed in a gray jacket, black pants, and a green shirt. Her orange eyes regarded the vampire with hatred.  
  
Martinez laughed. "Allow me to introduce some of my other successes. These are, respectively, Johnny the Bladestorm, Blayne the Steelclaw, and Zarlina the Ashenfall."  
  
A blindfolded man slipped out of the shadows. He took a rucksack from his back and tossed it to Martinez. Martinez caught it easily. "Thank you Raifen."  
  
Raifen bowed and took up a place by Zarlina. Martinez handed the bag to Johnny and approached Roland. "You two said to me that I wouldn't be able to take on either of you by myself, and that's true. I've decided I want to rectify that situation." Martinez reached down and dragged Roland up by the hood of his robe. He twisted Roland's head to the side and sank his fangs into the vampire's throat. There was an awful sucking sound and Roland fell limp. Martinez dropped the body and wiped his mouth. He then turned his attention to Michael.  
  
"You know Michael, the Gung-Ho Guns used to use a numbering system. So and so was the second Gung-Ho Gun, this other person was the ninth, etc. We've dropped that system these days, but occasionally refer to myself as the twenty-first Gung-Ho Gun. A little in joke between us vampires."  
  
Martinez started circling Michael's twitching body. "You see, my friends, there is a prophecy among the vampires. On the twenty-first day, the twenty-first hour, twenty-one years after the brother's fight began anew, all of the Caineites will come to an end." He knelt down in front of Michael. "Twenty-one years ago, Vash and Knives began their long struggle again. It's August twenty first." Martinez pulled his pocket watch and flipped it open. "And it's almost nine o'clock. Twenty-one hundred hours."  
  
Michael struggled, but Legato's mind control held him tightly to the sand. "What about you?" Michael shouted. "You're one of us as well!"  
  
Martinez lifted Michael up by the collar. "No I'm not, you excommunicated me, remember?" He opened his mouth and bit deep into Michael's neck. After a short period, he dropped the last Caineite and breathed in deeply.  
  
"Feel good?" a voice said from behind them.  
  
"Great," Martinez said. He turned around. Joseph and Ophelia watched them from a short distance. Johnny smiled and waved at Ophelia, who grinned.  
  
Johnny pulled a tarot card from his poncho and held it up for all to see. It was almost identical to Ophelia's Lovers card, only this one depicted a single male by a tree. Still grinning, he moved his hand back and shot the card towards Ophelia.  
  
Ophelia made a few passes and her card shot out to meet Johnny's. The fused in mid-air, forming a single Lovers card which floated between the two parties. Johnny's other hand darted out and a knife flew towards the card, piercing it through the tree depicted on it.  
  
Joseph caught the knife and removed the card. He tore it up and scattered the pieces to the winds. "Tell the demonic great deceiver Father Danil says 'Hi'."  
  
Blayne nodded. "We will. Just remember to inform the arrogant self- defeating fanatic that Knives sends his regards."  
  
Ophelia nodded. The two parties slowly backed away, and faded into the night.  
  
None of the five moons were there to watch the meeting. No light shone on it. The servants of a Plant and the followers of a priest met that night, to remind the world that high noon was coming, and that nobody should stand in their way.

Calamity: Yeah, I'm not normal, so what? So what if I can channel electricity? I'm hardly the weirdest person on this freaking planet. The real weird ones are the ones who completely embrace their difference, to the point that they can do whatever they want to anybody else, because they aren't the same. Next chapter: Gemini


	15. Gemini

I don't own Trigun or any of its characters. I only own my original characters, who are starting to outnumber the cannon characters at this point. Doesn't this bother anyone?

Oh, and by the way, a Heatwave is the type of gun Dominique uses, just so ya know.

* * *

"It went well?"

"As well as could be expected. Lorand is in the basement with the teraformer now."

"And the vampires?"

"Dead."

"How?"

"The Flock."

"They were there?"

"Indeed."

"Doesn't this bother you, Martinez? Your entire species is dead."

"Not at all. The race of vampires died a long time ago. What bothers me is that Father Danil knew we were going to be there."

"Yes, he knew about Jenora Rock and the teraformer as well."

"I think we can safely assume that he knows our plan."

"He would have figured it out eventually. Danil is by far the most intelligent human I have ever seen. But you're right, how did he know where and when we would strike?"

"Could he be bugging us?"

"Doubtful, we planned Jenora outside the ship. I think it much more likely that we may have a mole in our midst."

"Hmmm. . . I would suggest a mind scan, but Danil would have surely thought of that."

"He's found a way to block me. I could feel everyone else at New Transylvania, but his mind was a blank space. If he does have a mole here, they've been fitted with the same technology, or at least a modified version of it."

"Where are the rest of the Gung-Ho Guns?"

"Lorand is working with the teraformer. Johnny we sent to retrieve the other one before the Flock could reach it, the rest we sent out to prepare for the. . .reeducation."

"Ah yes, that. How many of them know the truth of it?"

"None, Master. None at all."

"Oh really? Why did you do that?"

"Because it's so much more fun that way."

* * *

The door to the Neo New Orleans Big and Tall store burst open and a young woman marched in, dragging a tall man behind her by his tie. She threw him up against the wall and started sifting through a rack of shirts.

"Why are we here again?" Jeremiah asked.

"Because I said so," Calamity answered. She picked out several shirts and tossed them to Jeremiah. "Here, try these on."

"Why?"

"Again, because I said so." Calamity pushed him into the fitting room, then grabbed a pair of pants and threw them over the door. "And while you're at it, try these on."

A black cat flew over the door towards her. She dodged and the cat landed beside her. It nyaoed angrily and ran out of the store.

"How do you know my pants size?"

"I checked your stuff while you were sleeping," Calamity replied.

"Do make a habit of going through people's things while they're not looking?"

Calamity chuckled. "Yes, actually. You did see my name on the poster by the sheriff's office, didn't you?"

Jeremiah opened the door and held out a shirt on a hanger. "This one's a large, I'm an extra extra large."

Calamity reached out for the shirt. A spark flashed briefly between her fingers and the metal hanger. Jeremiah yelped and dropped the hanger.

Calamity clicked her tongue and reached down for the dropped shirt. "Sorry about that, it happens sometimes."

"What the hell was that?" Jeremiah asked.

"That's what saved your ass back in Jenora. If I hadn't made that energy field you'd be nothing but a pile of carbon at this point."

"What, you're a living dynamo?"

Calamity shrugged and leaned against the wall next to the fitting room door. "I guess you could put it that way. A lot of the tools I use are just for show. Like the detonators, I don't even keep any batteries in them." She pulled one out and started flipping into the air.

"And how, exactly, are you able to d this?" Jeremiah asked.

"I dunno, I've just kind of always been able to do it. I try not to think about it too much."

"And your brother?"

". . . My brother?" Calamity asked darkly.

"Yeah, the guy with the poncho and the scar. He called you 'little sister'."

"It works differently for him. His abilities are more, magnetic. Can do amazing things with metal. Form knives from nothing but scrap."

"Knives?"

"Yeah, he has a thing for blades."

"How ironic."

"What?"

"Never mind," Jeremiah responded, stepping out of the fitting room. He had traded the dark blue suit for a pair of black pants and a black shirt.

"Did your days with the Flock affect you that much?" Calamity asked, moving over to a rack of over-shirts.

Jeremiah inspected his outfit. "What are you talking about?"

Calamity raised an eyebrow, then went back to picking out shirts. "Well, if we're going for a theme. . . you should definitely try this one on." She grabbed a white long sleeved button up collared shirt with a red cross embroidered on the back and tossed it to Jeremiah.

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

* * *

Calamity yawned as she left the store. Never having to buy batteries saved a lot of money, but buying components for plastic explosives was always a pain. Especially when you had to deal with curious storeowners.

"All done Jeremiah. . . Jeremiah?" she turned to the bench where she had left him, but it was empty now.

Calamity took a few deep breaths and glanced around the streets. _Okay, he probably just decided to stretch his legs. Look around a bit and he'll be there. How hard can it be to find a guy whose six foot ten and carrying a giant cross?_

She walked out into the main street and peered around, looking for the brown hair sticking above the crowd, or maybe the cloth top of the cross. She saw bankers, lawyers, and bartenders. She passed by families, lovers, bachelors, but she saw no wanna-be priests. Not a single one.

A hand fell on her shoulder. She screamed and reflexively sent a small shock through her body.

"Ow! Geeze Calamity, it's just me. Damn, that hurt!" Jeremiah stood behind her, Cross Punisher strapped to his back, with a pear in one hand and the other in his mouth. "I learn about this ability just this morning and your already unloading on me! Jeez!"

"S- s- sorry," Calamity stuttered.

"What's up with you? You're not usually so easily startled."

"Er. . . It's that time of the month," Calamity said.

Jeremiah bit into his pear. "No it's not," he said, "I grew up with three women, I've learned to tell when a woman is PMSing."

Sparks jumped between Calamity's fingers as she dug into one of her pockets. "Jeremiah, it's just PMS. Drop it."

"You sure?"

"Drop. It. Now."

Jeremiah raised his eyebrows. "Dropping it," he said. He bit into the pear and turned around. "Hurry up, the steamer'll leave without us."

_See Calamity? You're just being paranoid. He wouldn't leave you. He's. . . he's not that kind of guy._ A poster on the sheriff's office caught her eye. She had seen better pictures of herself. Her hand shot out and ripped the poster off.

Jeremiah pushed his way through the crowd, Calamity slipping through in his wake. "Damn, damn, damn!" he muttered. "We're gonna be late!"

"That's one sand steamer you won't be catching, Jeremiah T. Wolfwood."

A man stepped in front Jeremiah and regarded him with differently colored eyes, one light red, one a deep azure blue. He pulled his fringed vest to the side to reveal a Heatwave in his shoulder holster. He looked up and smiled.

Jeremiah stopped. "Is that supposed to scare me?"

Another man stepped out behind Calamity. He was almost completely identical to the first man, except his fringed vest was yellow instead of black, and his red and blue eyes were the mirror images of his twins. "No, it's not. But we didn't just bring out guns to the party. Like your girlfriend there, we are men. . ."

". . . But not of men, as a samurai used to say," the first man continued. "We are demons."

"Why don't you understand, Calamity? We were designed to be weapons. Even those. . ."

". . .Idiots at the Flock understand. Do you see Joseph whining about his abilities? Embrace what you are!"

Calamity turned to face the twin and backed up towards Jeremiah. "Humans aren't weapons to be used. We have our own will! We aren't guns or knives or swords!"

The twin chuckled. "Deny it all you want, Calamity Shriver, the machines in your blood know the truth. We are the Gung-Ho Guns Polster. . ."

". . .And Callox, the Gemini. Knives sends his regards." A man stepped out from behind each twin, identical to the first. Then another, then another. Dozens of copies sprang out from behind the twins and sprang out into the crowd.

"TIMES UP!"

"JERMIAH AND CALAMITY!"

"Calamity? Calamity Shriver?!"

"Who, who are all these people?"

"I dunno, but if they're with that lunatic Calamity Shriver, I'm out of here!"

The panicked crowd streamed out of the street, around, behind, and in some cases, through the multiple clones.

Jeremiah flipped a snap and the cloth covering went flying. He grabbed the skull grip on his Cross Punisher and hefted the cumbersome gun under his shoulder. "Great, we're fighting an army." He said.

Calamity smirked. "Hardly. Those things aren't really clones, they're illusions. The people ran right through 'em."

"Not all of us are illusions," Callox said, raising his Heatwave.

BLAM!

Jeremiah moved his Cross Punisher and blocked the bullet from hitting Calamity. His eyes slowly started glowing red. "Damn, the illusions give off heat as well."

"I'm thinking we should split up. We'll only have to worry about one real gun that way."

"Good idea. On the count of three."

"THREE!"

* * *

Jeremiah rounded a corner and ducked into an alley. He reached down and flipped a switch on the sidearm of his Cross Punisher. He listened to familiar CLUNCH of the regular ammo being loaded into the chambers and tried to catch his breath.

"Well this an interesting change. You certainly weren't that well dressed back at Jenora."

Two clones stepped into the alleyway, one on each side, brandishing their Heatwaves. Jeremiah threw himself to the ground and shot at both of them, but the bullets flew through their shoulders with no effect.

"Reminiscent of Legato, almost. White over black, I mean. Who dressed you?"

"Who says I didn't dress myself?"

Dozens of Polster copies ran through the alley. "Because you have no dress sense," they said.

Jeremiah dashed through the illusionary copies and crashed through a window into a bar. The patrons all stared at him quizzically. "GET OUT OF HERE, NOW!"

This outburst earned him blank stars from the patrons. Jeremiah grunted, pointed the Cross Punisher at the ceiling and pulled the trigger. The patrons and the bartender raced out under a hail of gunfire. Jeremiah quickly ducked behind the bar and flipped a few switches. The gun CLUNCHED as the normal ammunition was replaced with armor piercing ammo.

"How gallant of you, to get all the people out of the way. No point to it really, we're after you, not after them. Now, where are you?"

Jeremiah flipped on his infrared vision. Dozens of heat signatures waited on the other side of the bar. _It'll only wound him. He'll live, I hope._

He carefully brought his cross around so it was facing the front of the bar. It was a tight fit, but for whatever reason the space behind the bar was particularly wide. _Let's see. . . that one looks as likely as any._ He aimed at what looked like the shoulder region and pulled the trigger.

**BLAM! **

He switched to another form and pulled the trigger.

**BLAM!**

Again, he switched to another form and fired. Again, again, and again, he fired at a vague shape on the other side of the bar.

**BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!**

"Damn, it's a good thing I wasn't down there." Polster said

* * *

Calamity dashed down the street, looking for a place to fight. Somewhere out of the way, somewhere were there wouldn't be many people, somewhere. . . like the well treatment facility.

She barged past the lingering crowd and ducked through the doors. Ignoring the protests of the workers she ran down the hall into the main holding facility. She knew one of the twins would be right behind her, so she didn't have much time to set up.

Among the maze of pipes, one suspended high above the main concrete floor caught her attention. She followed it down to a large water tank. She ran over and opened the valve, letting the water rush through the pipe. She reached into her coat and pulled out a plastic explosive pack. It was small, packed into a rectangular shape. On one side was the detonator receiver; the other had a medium sized magnet attached.

She flipped the bomb magnet side up and flung it towards the water pipe. It hit it with a satisfying click and held fast to the metal. Calamity smiled, flipped out a detonator, and ran off to hide among the pipes. Now, it was a matter of waiting.

* * *

Jeremiah breathed deeply. Was there any other way out of this other then dumb luck? Keep shooting at copies until he got lucky? He'd be dead way before that happened. A Heatwave bullet to the head, and so ends the tale of Jeremiah T. Wolfwood, son of Millie Thompson and some priest he had never met.

_Great._

He shook his Cross Punisher idly and ran through the ammunition types he still had in there. There were a couple of things that could take out a group of people, but not without risk to the lives of innocent bystanders. Or risk to Polster's life when it came to it.

"Damn, damn, damn, damn! What do I do?"

"Well, dying's always an option."

Polster appeared at the end of the alleyway. "It'd be easy, just stand there and let me shoot you."

"Nah, I got to much to live for. Besides, I couldn't live with myself knowing that Danil was still out there, 'cleansing'. Or die with myself, or afterlive with myself. I dunno."

Jeremiah stood up from the wall and pointed his cross at Polster. He pulled the trigger and watched the bullet pass harmlessly through Polster's shoulder. "I didn't really expect that to work."

The clone of Polster smirked. "Good bye," it said. Dozens of Polster copies ran onto the street, surrounding him on all sides. As one, they raised their Heatwaves and pulled the trigger.

Jeremiah threw himself to the side, but not fast enough. A bullet creased his cheek, leaving a long thin cut. He fell hard to the ground and knocked his head on the pavement.

"Lucky, but I don't think you'll be that lucky again."

Jeremiah shook his head and opened his eyes. The knock to the head had shifted his cyber eyes into the ultraviolet range. He glanced around at all the faintly purple shapes staring at him.

"Good, I would hate for you not to see your death coming."

"Hang on a sec," Jeremiah said. His eyes narrowed. "Humans don't give off ultraviolet light." He looked around and found a gap in the line. His eyes switched into the normal spectrum and he raised his cross.

"Ah shit."

**BLAM! BLAM! **

The Heatwave flew out of Polster's hand and hit the ground. Polster laughed weakly and flinched. The second bullet had hit him in the shoulder.

Jeremiah pushed himself up with his cross. "You're lucky I used the smaller caliber. If I had used the regulars from this, you wouldn't have an arm any longer."

Polster smiled. "I'll thank you for that. Now, if you don't mind, I think my work is done here. Later!" Copies of Polster ran out from here and rushed towards him. Jeremiah threw his arm in front of instinctively as the copies passed through him. When the stampede had finished, the original Gung Ho Gun was gone.

Jeremiah shook his head. If he ever ran into Vash again, he was going to have to make him explain how to fight these freaks. He threw the Cross Punisher over his shoulder and walked off to find Calamity.

* * *

Callox stepped slowly into the main facility. The place was built for practicality, nothing but a concrete floor, pipes, and tanks. A large machine in the corner churned, sucking water up from deep within the planet. "Where are you Clarissa? You know it's not too late, you can come with me. Johnny would welcome you with open arms."

"SCREW YOU!"

Callox moved out into the center of the room, secure in the crowd of himself. "Oh come on, little disaster, the idea can't be that bad. Like I said, we are weapons, meant to be used. Come with me, and find a hand to wield you."

"Weren't you paying attention? I'm not a weapon! And Johnny's not my brother anymore!" Calamity sparked the detonator and hit the button.

BOOM!

The bomb blew apart, blowing the pipe open. Water came cascading down over Callox, who took it surprisingly well.

"Damn it, this is my favorite vest!" He pulled out his Heatwave and surveyed the room. "Where the hell are you?"

Calamity reached out to the flooded floor. She dipped her hand in the water and sent a quick jolt through her arm.

Castor convulsed as the electricity ran through his body and fell to the ground. All of his doubles immediately faded out. Castor laughed into the ground. "God damn, girl! You are a hot one! I thought my genetic modifications were something else, but I can't even come close to those nanomachines!"

He pushed himself up off the ground and checked his watch. "Well, I guess I'm done here. Adios, muchacha." Hundreds of duplicates surged toward Calamity, obscuring her vision. Castor leapt to his feat and ran out of the room.

Calamity sighed and leaned against a pipe. "Well, I didn't blow too much up."

* * *

Calamity found Jeremiah sitting on bench in front of the building. He spotted her and grinned. "It's times like this that I consider starting smoking.

Calamity nodded and sat down beside him. "I know what you mean. Well, now what?"

"Steamer's left already, but don't think staying here's really an option any more."

"Welcome to my world, people chasing you out of towns when something just happens to blow up around you."

Jeremiah chuckled. "Don't forget, I was partially raised by Vash the Stampede."

Calamity shrugged. "So. . . the bus?"

"You got enough money for a quick bribe? Something to keep his mind off your bounty?"

"I got five hundred double dollars on me."

"That'll do."

* * *

Nikki: Can you really have nothing to live for? That would be the saddest thing of all. To be so miserable, so far gone that there is no reason to cling to life. Suicide is one thing, but not really caring whether you live or die is another thing all together. What on earth could drive a person to that point? How lonely would a person have to be, to not have any particular reason to go on? Next chapter: Man of Shadow, Lady of Death.


	16. Man of Shadow,Lady of Death

Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun, I don't own the Trigun characters.

What I do own is the entire series of Trigun on DVD, the entire series of Firefly on DVD, all three Wild Arms video games, and both Trigun mangas. Is anyone else noticing a pattern here?

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The man burst into the bar, exuding arrogance from every pore, every fiber of his being. The posse of yes-men behind him didn't help either. He swaggered over to the bar, catching the eye of every patron, letting them know that now that he was in the bar, he was in charge. Leaning against the bar, he flipped a five double dollar coin to the bartender.

"Usual barkeep."

He turned to the woman next to him and grinned. She sat there and continued sipping her iced tea, ignoring him. Covered from head to toe in clothes of some type, the only exposed skin she had was her face. Her pale orange eyes stared at a point above the bartender's shoulder. It was as if she knew something was there, something that none of the other patrons could see.

"Honey, you're wearing too many clothes for a night like this. It's not healthy to cover up so much skin like that. Why don't you let your body breath a bit?"

The woman sipped from her iced tea and continued to stare above the barman's shoulder. "Why don't we cut the crap and get to what you really meant to say? What you really meant to say is 'Why don't you come home with me so we can lose the clothes entirely?'"

The man was dumbfounded. Had he just found some shortcut that had been eluding him completely for years? Did he really not have to sweet talk, cajole, and buy drinks to get women home?

The woman smiled and set her unfinished ice tea down. "Why not? You look like you're worthy of my special touch. Why don't we start now?" She pulled off her gloves and placed both hands on the man's shoulders. "I'm Zarlina, Zarlina the Ashenfall. You know what else they call me?"

The arrogant man smiled. "No sugar, what do they call you?"

Zarlina moved her hands from the man's shoulders up to his head. She cupped his face and the man suddenly started screaming. He clutched at Zarlina's arms, desperately trying to pull them away, but as he grabbed her exposed skin, the pain increased, and he screamed even louder.

Zarlina dropped the man, who collapsed into a sputtering, convulsing heap on the floor. A minute later, he gave one last great spasm then stopped moving all together. Zarlina shook her head.

"They call me the Lady of Death."

In the back of the bar, the posse of yes men rose from their chairs. "Do you know who you just killed lady? That was Lightnin' Jack! If you hadn't caught him off his guard... You'll pay for the boss' death!"

Zarlina turned and looked at them sadly. "Why must you rush me like this? Why are you so eager to embrace the reaper? Why must you always make me use my gift? My curse? Why do you do this to me?"

The guns went for their weapons. Five iron balls came flying from a point above the barman's shoulder. They collided with the gunmen's weapons, knocking them to the ground. They dove for their guns, but it was too late. A shadow rose up among them, a shadow with a katana, and a thirst for blood.

Zarlina sat down at the bar and resumed drinking her tea. After a few painful sounding minutes, Raifen joined her. He signaled to the barman. "I don't suppose it would be presumptuous to ask you have any rice wine?"

"Sake? Yeah we got that stuff." The barman had seen all types come through here, he wasn't about to let something like this throw him off. He went over to a stove and flipped it on.

Raifen held up a hand. "I want it cold please."

The barman shrugged and poured a cup of sake and slid it over to the blindfolded ninja. He caught it easily and took a sip.

"They are here."

"I know."

"Tomorrow then?"

"Tomorrow."

The man of shadow and the lady of death sat side by side, drinking silently.

* * *

Nikki banged on the hotel room door. There was no response. She knocked on the door harder, but still no response. She frowned and kicked at the door with her boot. This got a response.

"Go away! Need sleepy!"

"Evans, aren't you Cavalry guys supposed to be up and at 'em? Ready to go at any hour?"

"Yes! That's why we get as much sleep as possible whenever we can!"

Nikki shook her head. If he kept sleeping like this he was going to miss lunch. She put her chin in her hand. On the one hand, she could shoot out the locks, but that would leaven a hell of a mess that would have to be paid for later, and Nikki knew that she would be the one shelling out the cash.

Instead she took a knife from her jacket sleeve pocket and inserted in the lock. A couple of jiggles and...

Click 

The lock slid smoothly back into the door and Nikki pushed it open. Evans lay in bed, facing away from her with a pillow jammed over his head. Nikki walked up to the bed and lifted up the mattress, tilting it toward the ground. Evans rolled out of bed, landing on the floor with a painful **THUD**.

A hand reached out from the floor. It felt it's way up to the bedside table, then groped around until it found a pair of wrap-around sunglasses. It yanked the sunglasses down from the table behind the bed, and Evans stood up, the sunglasses resting firmly in front of his eyes.

"Why am I not surprised that you did that first?" Nikki asked.

Evans reached for a holder and pulled his hair back into its accustomed ponytail. "You know all too much about me angel."

Nikki put her hands on her hips. "I don't know what color your eyes are. And don't call me angel."

"That'll remain my little secret angel." He walked across the room to his bag and pulled out a uniform shirt. "So, did I miss breakfast?"

"Yes, we had-"

"Doughnuts."

"How did you know?"

Evans reached for a gray vest and shrugged it on. "Because you've had doughnuts for breakfast for the past six days."

"Yeah, well you missed it."

Evans grabbed his toothbrush and strode into the bathroom. "I missed doughnuts? Horrors abound, I haven't had doughnuts in so long, since, I don't know, yesterday maybe. How will I live knowing that I missed another day of doughnuts?"

"They were quite nice, especially without the cigar aftertaste dining with you so often brings."

Evans laughed from inside the bathroom.

"So what's on the schedule for today officer?"

"I dunno," Evans called back, "Hang around town, see what's going on."

"And if we leave?"

"Then I might leave as well, who knows?"

Nikki peered into the bathroom. "You're following us, admit it."

Evans spat out the toothpaste and wiped his mouth. "I admit to nothing angel, you make accusations without any proof."

"You've followed to every town we've been to, even ones like Lasuken where you obviously weren't welcome. You aren't on bounty duty, or if you are you're doing a crappy job of it, you haven't chased down inquired about one outlaw since we've been traveling!"

Evans stepped out of the bathroom and sat on the bed. He pulled his boots out and started lacing them up. "Okay, so you do have proof, what's your point? If you don't want me to follow you, why didn't you just sneak out while I was sleeping late?"

"I didn't have a point, I was just saying."

Evans stood up and reached for his officer's coat. "Alright, now that we've established that I might indeed be following you and you aren't really going to do anything about it, why don't we get some lunch?"

* * *

Nikki reached back and stroked the guitar slung there. After so much travel, it had started to scratch in a couple of places. The fact that she used for combat didn't help either. But the scratches didn't bother her. Her old guitar, the one she had lost years ago, had been scratched up pretty badly in some places. Records of where she had been. Here there'd be a scratch where she had bumped it against a table, over there'd be one where a cat had decided to try using the guitar as a scratching post.

The new guitar had felt like getting a new life, like when she had run from home, and now it was starting to show records of where she had been.

_Snap._

Nikki was shaken out of her reverie by the sound of Evans cigar case snapping shut. She stopped walking and grabbed his arm. "Can we just go one minute without you smoking Evans?"

"What's the big deal? I won't blow the smoke into your face or anything."

"Evans, just don't."

"No, I think I will."

Nikki scowled and tried to pull the cigar case away from him. Evans frowned and pulled back. A brief tug-of-war erupted between them, which abruptly ended when Evans pulled too hard and fell backwards, Nikki collapsing on top of him.

"Ahem."

Evans looked back and up to see Meryl and Millie standing over them. Meryl did not look happy. "This isn't what it seems," Evans said.

Meryl slapped him anyway. Nikki pushed herself off of Evans and tossed the cigar case down on to his chest.

Millie knelt down and helped Evans up. He brushed the dust off his coat. "Was that necessary?"

Meryl frowned. "Yes, your sleeping in made us miss the early bus, now we're going to have to wait until tomorrow to catch the next one!"

"Aww, you waited for me, how sweet."

Meryl shook her head. "We just thought you might want traveling company, that's all."

Millie leaned down. "I thought we wanted his company too. Something about Nikki?"

"Be quiet Millie," Meryl snapped. She stalked off, nearly tripping over a black cat that appeared out of nowhere. It looked up at Meryl and nyaoed. She frowned and stepped over it, rounded a corner, and walked back to the hotel, Millie trailing behind her.

"I'd ask if they're always like that, but I already know the answer."

Nikki chuckled. "Uh, yeah. Millie can say some pretty crazy stuff sometimes."

"Yeah, but she can also be freakishly insightful at times. Those times its easier to see her in Jeremiah."

Nikki shrugged and sat down on a bench. She pulled the guitar around and plucked out a tune, something her father had taught her.

Evans leaned against a wall and pushed his hat down in front of his sunglasses. "I thought we were going for food?"

"Later. I wanna see if I can scrounge up some cash so the meal'll be free."

Evans shrugged. "Whatever works for you. Wow, that's an old song. Haven't heard it an a while."

Nikki nodded. "Its my dad's favorite song, he said his mother taught it to him or something like that."

"Wow, Vash the Stampede has a mother. Stop the satellite, everyone must know that the devil in human form the Humanoid Typhoon has a mother."

Nikki chuckled. "Well, he never actually said it was his mother, but it was almost implied. It might have been his sister, or it might have been both to him."

"Didn't he tell you?"

"He told me surprisingly little."

Evans nodded and let his mind wander, listening to Nikki play. Damn, that was an old song. Lelia liked that song a lot as well. Lelia, damn, he hadn't seen in her in a while.

The wind brushed the sand over the paved street, pushing Evans coat slightly to the side. Evans knew that his sister hadn't seen their father in a while either. The family had sort fallen apart when his mom had died. Not mentally or spiritually or anything like that. They still saw each other, still sent presents on birthdays, attended weddings, okay one wedding, but now they were scattered around the planet. There was nowhere the family called home. General Braxler had sold the house and moved into the fort after his wife had died, Lelia kept her house with Roger, and Evans basically lived on the march these days.

Evans shifted his weight to his other foot and slid down the wall slightly. "Oh well, at least the company's pleasant."

A flash of movement caught Evans eye. He threw himself forward as a metal throwing star sailed towards Nikki. Evans was fast, but not fast enough to catch the star in time. Fortunately, he didn't have to be. Nikki quickly leaned backwards, and the flying blade passed harmlessly in front of her. Before the star hit the sand, Nikki's guns had cleared their holsters. She slung the guitar to her back and moved her hands behind her, the metal reloading tubes filling her guns with a satisfying **KA-CHUNK**.

Evans stopped his charge and dropped his hand for his sword. "Where are you?" he growled. "Better yet, who are you?"

"I am the Gung-Ho Gun Raifen the Shadow, and as one who works in shadow, I do not think I will be coming out just yet."

"I, on the other hand, am a different story," a woman said, rising from the bench. She glared at Nikki with her sickly orange eyes. "In some circles I am known as Zarlina the Ashenfall. I am a walking plague, everything I touch withers and dies, I can never feel the warmth of a friend, the caress of a lover, nothing. Now Knives sets my curse on you, abomination."

Nikki raised her gun towards Zarlina, then frowned and holstered both Long Colts. She darted around the woman and ran off. "You'll have to catch me first!"

Zarlina growled and ran after her.

Evans pulled out a cigar, cut the tip, and lit it. "I know you're behind me," he said.

"Naturally. We are quite alike, you and I. We both cover our eyes; keep our feelings from our foes. We are no strangers to hiding things, you and I."

Evans shrugged as the blindfolded assassin stepped out of the shadows. He moved his coat back and reached for the hilt of his saber with his left hand. "Well, you might be right there. But if we're so alike, why do you fight for the bad guys?"

Raifen's right hand reached for the katana strapped to his back. "You assume that I fight for the 'bad guys'? I fight for honor. I am the last of my clan, and without a purpose, without a job, we are dead. If my clan dies with me, it will die on the job, doing what it was trained to do."

"Fair enough." Evans ripped the sword from the sheath at lightning speed, sending a shockwave shooting down the street. Two benches were knocked over and people scattered as the invisible force sent the sand flying.

Raifen flipped over it and brought his sword down in an over-head two-hand chop. Evans quickly brought his saber to deflect the blow.

"Very good move. The streets are clear, now none must be hurt in our battle."

Evans threw the katana back and brought the saber up to his shoulder in both hands. "I thought so," he dashed forward, thrusting with the saber at the ninja's face.

* * *

Meryl sat down at her test and tapped a few keys on her typewriter idly. She knew that she didn't need to write reports, Bernardelli was hardly interested in what Nikki or Evans was doing, but it helped relieve stress. Something about typing up a report helped her reflect over the events of the day and make some sense of the largely insane world that she lived in.

"Hey Meryl, I'm gonna brew some coffee, you want some?"

Meryl sighed. "I'd love some Millie." She continued to type random syllables on the paper. _Augh, this is a waste. If I'm going to use up ink, I should least type something semi-coherent._

She listened to Millie humming some folk tune while she changed the paper in the typewriter. She put her head in her hand, thinking about how to start. _Delay by Cavalryman? No, that doesn't give enough detail. Held Up Because Some Stupid-Ass Cavalry Punk Couldn't Be Bothered To Get Out Of Bed, Forcing Us To Catch Tomorrow's Bus, And We Wouldn't Even Bother With The Snoop Except My Daughter Seems To Like Him. No, that' too long, and quite frankly too opinionated. I only think Nikki liked Evans because she's treating Evans like I treated Vash. Like I still do for that matter. Or would do, if he hadn't…_

CRASH 

"Millie, did you break another coffee cup? We're running on enough of a budget as it is."

"M-m-ma'am!"

That was a bad sign, Millie usually only reverted to calling Meryl "ma'am" when she was really nervous. Meryl twisted around in her chair to see Millie slowly stand up and walk towards Meryl. She ripped the paper with the failed "report" titles from the typewriter and placed a clean sheet in.

"Millie, what are you- what the hell?" Meryl's arms started moving against her will. They placed themselves on the typewriter keys and started writing a message. A message she didn't want, a message she didn't create. When the message was finished, Meryl's body ripped the paper from the typewriter and laid it on the desk. Millie's hand reached for a pen and signed the paper. Meryl's hand took the pen from Millie and wrote her signature next to Millie's.

"Meryl, what's happening? Why can't I control my body?"

"I, I don't know. Is there anything that can do this to another person?"

They both watched, prisoners in their own bodies, as their luggage was packed and they both walked out the door.

"But didn't Mr. Vash tell us about…?"

"It couldn't be, he's dead!"

**Evidently not.**

If Meryl and Millie could have, they would've stopped dead in their tracks. As it was, they went down the inn stairs and into the street.

**But, Vash shot you!** Meryl thought.

**Yes, and all for you two. How disgustingly sentimental of him. Why don't you two come around back? There's a relative of mine I'd like you to meet. And since I never properly introduced myself to you two, my name's Legato. Legato Bluesummers.**

* * *

Nikki chanced a quick look behind her. Zarlina was quite the runner. She was keeping up, gaining even.

"You know, if you keep running, I might accidentally touch a bystander. An innocent bystander. Think about that phrase for a second. Somebody who has no idea of our conflict, has no idea who Knives is, no idea of what I am or why we fight, is killed. Just because I happened to brush against him."

Nikki screeched to a halt. Slowly, she pulled the Long Colts from her jacket.

"Good, now you're acting like a mature adult. We'll fight. One touch, one kill. At least for me. How you choose to fight me is completely up to you."

Nikki stood up and faced Zarlina. "But no innocents, all right? Leave these people out of this."

"Sure, I don't like involving others anyway. So, any ideas on how to get them out of the picture?"

Nikki sighed and nodded. There was one way. She hardly had her father's reputation, but few people are willing to hang around once guns start firing. She pulled back the hammer on the Long Colt. It was a semi-automatic, so she didn't need to, but sometimes the moment just requires the extra effort.

**BLAM!**

The crowd screamed at once and scattered, leaving Nikki standing with one gun held up in the air. Zarlina chuckled and pulled off her other glove. Then she undid her hair and let it slid down to her mid back.

"I should warn you that I'm poisonous everywhere. Everything, including my hair, could kill you."

Nikki chuckled. "At least you know what you are. I don't even know that."

"Yes, I know what I am. Pestilence, the goddamn Horseman of the Apocalypse! How could not knowing what I am be any worse then that?!"

Nikki slowly raised her eyes to Zarlina's. "You should try it sometime. You really should."

Zarlina nodded, then charged forward with ferocious speed. Nikki's hands darted up and two shots fired from each of the Long Colts. A bench to Zarlina's side flew in front of her path. Unable to stop in time, she toppled over it, then rolled along the ground and came up into a fighting crouch.

Nikki raised an eyebrow. "What, you're going to try to fight me in hand-to-hand combat now? What happened to all this 'I am a walking human plague' stuff?"

Zarlina's hands shot out and two iron balls flew at Nikki's unsuspecting hands. Nikki, as quick as she was, wasn't nearly prepared for this sickly looking woman to be so godforsaken _fast_. The iron balls slammed into the Long Colts, knocking them across the street.

"There's just one difference girlie, I get one touch, I win. You actually have to work for it."

Nikki shrugged and raised her hands in front of her. "Been training with ninja boy I see."

Zarlina cocked her head to the side, then rocketed forward with an outstretched hand palm. Nikki dodged swiftly, then got in a quick right jab to Zarlina's face with her gloved hand.

Zarlina fell back and glared. "Tch. Got gloves on I see? And a long-sleeved jacket. Well, this will make it an interesting fight if nothing else." She flashed forward again, and this time Nikki barely missed the hand chop for her neck. Zarlina whipped her hair around and Nikki flashed to the side, almost leaving an after image. She threw out a quick jab with the left, which connected, and a roundhouse with the right, which did not. Zarlina threw up her arm to block and swept the arm aside.

Zarlina flipped backwards, did a handspring, then pulled off both her shoes. She stood barefoot on the sand, the wind blowing her hair around.

"Great," Nikki said, "Just great."

* * *

Raifen chuckled as he brought his blade around in a slow arc.

"Something strike you as funny?" Evans asked.

Raifen nodded. "Yes, it occurs to me that despite being among the most secretive, you are also the most out of the loop. You have no idea what you are getting yourself into."

"I'm a soldier, I'm used to being ordered into things I have no idea about."

Raifen didn't say anything, but flashed forward, his katana apparently striking high but twisting downwards at the last second. Evans blocked it, then slid his saber up in a attempt to score a cut on his opponents arm. Raifen's other hand shot up and grabbed the saber blade. Evans did the same to the katana, and the two of them stood in the street, holding each other's swords, staring at each other.

Or, as far at any bystander could have told, they were staring at each other. One hid his eyes under a pair of sunglasses, the other under a blindfold. Inscrutable, unreadable, they stood there like something more than men, things whose feelings couldn't be read.

"You're holding back," Raifen said.

"Why does everyone I fight say I'm holding back?"

"Because you are. What are you afraid of?"

"Who says I'm afraid of anything?"

"You'd be surprised how much clearer things become when you restrict the sight."

Evans suddenly let go of the blade and lunged forward with a quick jab at Raifen's face. At almost the same time, Raifen dropped Evans blade and flashed to side, moving faster than most eyes could see. He sliced horizontally at Evans, who followed through the punch and ducked into a roll. He came up facing Raifen, with his saber by his shoulder, the blade parallel to the ground.

"As long as we're asking the personal questions, how 'bout I ask you one?"

Raifen cocked his head to the side. "Shoot."

Evans lunged forward and took a diagonal swipe at Raifen, who deflected it easily and turned it into a swipe at Evans.

Evans blocked the strike with his hand guard, then retreated a couple of paces. "If you were so worried about innocents not getting caught in our battle, what happened in Jenora Rock?"

Raifen lowered his blade an inch. "What?"

Evans shifted his weight, ready to lunge again if the situation called for it. "I said, what about Jenora Rock? I know you were there."

"Impossible, you couldn't have seen me."

Evans grinned. "I didn't see you, but your friend is much less adept at concealing herself. More importantly, a lot of bodies had wounds from a sword. Simple matter of putting two and two together."

Raifen raise his katana again. "What's your point?"

"My point? My point is, how could you kill so many 'innocents' at Jenora and still be worried about what happens to people here? What's the difference? Are you the one who decides whose just an innocent bystander?"

"That was different-"

"HOW? How is that different? Explain it to me, because I'm pretty goddamn curious! They were just trying to defend themselves and their town from monsters! How does that make them different?"

Raifen's blade quivered. It was small, barely noticeable. It would have required laboratory testing to even detect it, but quiver it did. "But, my master told me to. A ninja obeys his master…"

Evans pointed his sword at Raifen. "Even when he knows it's wrong? Even when he knows he's slaughtering innocents!? Bullshit, that excuse doesn't work in the Cavalry and it sure as hell isn't going to work here. You wanted to bring honor to your clan? Yeah, they'd be proud of you." He swiped his saber across and held it his side. "They'd be real, goddamn, proud."

Raifen said nothing. His face never changed, and his eyes, hidden behind the blindfold, revealed nothing to the world either. They didn't need to, his actions told enough. The ninja reached into a pouch on his torso, then quickly threw something to the ground. Smoke filled the air, white, odorless, and enveloping.

The smoke ran along the streets, cleansing it like incense cleanses a temple. When the smoke cleared, the fight was over and the combatants were gone. One had disappeared with the smoke; the other had gone to lean against the building for a smoke.

* * *

Nikki swooped to the right, barely missing Zarlina's high kick. She swooped back in with a one-two punch combo. One of them actually connected, but Nikki paid the price for her aggression. Zarlina took the first punch, but grabbed the second one and _twisted_. Nikki flipped over her, landing on her stomach a few feet away.

She spit dust out of her mouth and cleared it from her eyes to see the hazy vision of Zarlina charging for her, hands outstretched. Nikki shot up into a kneeling position and caught both of Zarlina's hands. Zarlina pushed back. Strength-wise, Zarlina knew she was outmatched, but she grinned all the same. Her face moved closer to Nikki's.

"One brush against your skin, and it's all over. Nothing can save you. You see, your mistake is that you can't give it your all, whereas I have nothing to live for. It doesn't matter to me whether I live or die."

Nikki gritted her teeth and moved her head backwards. "You have nothing to live for?"

"Everyone I touch dies, what possibly could _I_ have to live for?"

"Not even that ninja?"

Zarlina's face stopped. "What?"

"You'd better decide soon, I think he's leaving."

Zarlina turned around to see Raifen's shadow dart across the rooftop of the hotel. While she was distracted, Nikki let go with her right hand and delivered a vicious roundhouse punch to Zarlina's jaw.

The orange-eyed woman flew backwards through the air, landing with a thump against the fountain. She shook her head, then staggered to her feet. "Where is he going? Where is he going without me? RAIFEN!"

The Lady of Death ran after the retreating shadow of the ninja.

Nikki sighed and retrieved her guns. Her mother was not going to happy about leaving the town early, but seeing as she didn't really feel like either spending the night in jail or why she might feel the need to shoot a Long Colt in a public place so she could fight with a walking plague, there really was no other choice.

* * *

Nikki staggered up the hotel stairs and pushed the door to Meryl and Millie's room open. To her surprise, Evans was in there, leaning against the table with a cigar clutched between his teeth.

"They're gone," he said. He reached behind him to the table and picked up a folded note. "But they left this for you."

Nikki took the note and quickly skimmed it's contents. She looked up at Evans. "They were called back on some business. Some sort of major insurance disaster or something. I'm going to LR town to meet them there."

"LR town, huh?"

"What are you going to do?"

Evans shrugged. "The best thing to do would be to grab a lift on a steamer, it's a long way to LR. There's a sand steamer platform about three iles outside of town. You up for a walk?"

Nikki stared at the note in her hands. "So you're coming with me? I can't guarantee that what happened today won't happen again."

Evans shrugged again. "I don't really have a choice, do I? I am under orders after all."

* * *

Vash: He's got his father's nose, he's got his father's chin, he's got his father's ears, he's got his father's looks. This is what some people grow up with, only knowing their father from their reflection in the mirror. Can a person, without even realizing it, become a man they never knew? No, that's impossible, you can't become somebody else, you will always be you, even if who you are changes. But, can a person unknowingly walk down the path of someone else, someone they never knew? Next Chapter: Sins of the Father.

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And in case any of you were wondering, all those things I mentioned in the author's note are sci-fi/westerns.


	17. Sins of the Father

Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun, I don't own the characters… who really reads these summaries anyway?  It's not like people are bothering to read this.  I could really put anything in here and no one would notice.  Maybe in the next chapter I'll put a cookie recipe instead of a disclaimer.

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Ophelia's trained hands skimmed through the deck.  Cutting, sifting, shuffling, she pulled six cards at random and threw them out in front of her.  They landed, face down, in the shape of a cross, four cards long with one card to each side of the third card. Languidly, she started flipping them over, starting with the bottom. 

Joseph walked into the small kitchen Ophelia was sitting in and opened a cupboard.  He searched around for something, but when he failed to find it, he pulled out a chair opposite Ophelia. 

"Anything new?  What does the future bring for the Flock?  Will His work be done?"

Ophelia put her elbow on the table and rested her head in her hand.  "No," she projected.  "Just the same things I've been seeing for weeks now.  This is an uncertain future, so the cards are reluctant to say anything.  But have faith.  We are doing the Lord's work, and therefore have His blessing."

Joseph shrugged, then turned to look out the window, staring at the landscape as it flashed by.  Sand, sand, and just for a change of pace, more sand.  Occasionally rocky outcropping and cliffs would roll by them, breaking up the otherwise monotonous landscape.

Ophelia gasped.  "Well this is interesting."

Joseph turned his attention back to Ophelia's Tarot spread.  It was the usual spread Ophelia had been pulling for days.  Nothing special, nothing helpful, nothing new.  Except the center card, where the four arms of the cross intersected.   In Ophelia's cross spread, this place indicated the definite future.  A hint at what was to happen. 

Right now, Ophelia was holding said card in her hand, facing away from Joseph.  She flipped it in her fingers.

"The Judgment card?  That is interesting." 

Joseph leaned back in his chair.  "One way or another.  It's going to end.  This war.  It's going to end soon."

            Wolfwood patted his pockets for his matches.  He always ran out of matches before he ran out of cigarettes.  "I should just get a damn lighter," he grumbled.

Vash held a lit match in front of Wolfwood's face. Wolfwood nodded then lit his cigarette.  Vash shook the match out. 

"Since when do you carry matches around with you?" Wolfwood asked.

"Since you came back to life and needed to smoke every three minutes."  Vash responded.

Wolfwood dragged on his cigarette and nodded.  "And why are we heading to the Sky City crash site."

Vash held up two fingers.  "Two reasons.  Both having to do with the fact that I have friends that live there."

"Oh you mean that girl on the flying ship…. Damn, what was her name?" gritted his teeth in annoyance.

"Jessica.  Yes, her and Lina.  Remember her? The one I lived with for two years before you dragged me out of there?"

"I remember her.  I also remember you stripping buck naked and running around barking like a dog."

Vash didn't respond, he just twisted around in the bus seat and stared out the window.

"Awww, what's a matter? Did I embarrass you again?"

Vash growled.  "I've done some humiliating things in my life, but that may have been by far the worst." He shook his head.  "Especially because you were there.  Did you really have to tell Meryl and Millie about it?"

Wolfwood chuckled.  "It was funny.  I loved how for a brief second Meryl looked disappointed.  Almost as if she was thinking 'Damn, I missed it!'"

Vash frowned.  "You have got to be the dirtiest priest in the history of the clergy."

"Oh really? Obviously they didn't tell you much about the history of religion while you were on the ship."

The bus rolled to a stop in the middle of the town.  The pair levered themselves off the bus seat and stumbled off the bus.

"Hey Padre!" the bus driver called out.

Wolfwood waved his hand dismissively.  "Don't worry about it, I can get my luggage myself."  He climbed up the ladder and untied his cross from the bus. "Hey Vash! Catch!"

Vash moved back and held his arms out.  "Ready!" 

Wolfwood lofted the cross down to Vash, who caught it with a grunt.  He stumbled back a bit and almost fell over.  "I always forget how damn heavy this thing is."

"Oh really? You said you used against Knives?" Wolfwood said, climbing down from the bus.

"Well yeah," Vash said, handing the Cross Punisher to Wolfwood and picking up his own bag.  "But I just barely lifted it up.  I don't think I could wield the thing one handed like you do."

"Ah, Mr. Superior Being can't lift something a human can lift?  'It isn't worth lifting if it can only be used by a pathetic spider!'"

Vash laughed out loud.  "Damn, you sound exactly like him!  How much of that did you have to deal with?"

Wolfwood shook his head.  "You have no idea.  He just loved to use Legato as a mouthpiece to explain how worthless we were.  'Course, I was able to ignore it.  I grew up with crazy ranting.  Eventually you build a tolerance to it.  Say, what were the two reasons that we're stopping here?"

"What? Oh yeah.  Well first, Lina and Jessica usually keep their ears to the ground for me in the area of Knives' actions.  The second is that one of the two usually gives me a free meal and a bed to sleep in for the night."

Wolfwood raised his eyebrows as he slipped on his dark sunglasses.  "Good deal."

"Especially because we've spent all the bounty money."

"Yeah, on your doughnuts."

"No, on your cigarettes."

"Doughnuts."

"Cigarettes."

"Why don't you act your age?"

"Sure, find another man in his hundred and fifties who isn't related to me and I'll act just like him."

The Gung-ho Gun Lorand the Gearhead could get very involved in his work.  Very, very involved.  Given a machine and a box of tools, it would take a gunshot to bring him back to reality.  Of course, his reaction would be to kill the distraction then get back to work on his project.

"Lorand.  Lorand.  LORAND!  YOU STUPID INFERIOR PIECE OF GARBAGE! PAY ATTENTION TO ME!  DO YOU REALIZE WHO IS TALKING TO YOU?"

Knives shook his head.  Why did he even bother anymore?   He pulled his black Long Colt from its holster and aimed it at Lorand's right arm. 

**BLAM!**

**CLANG!**

The bullet ricocheted off of Lornad's mechanical arm and embedded itself in the wall.  Lorand blurred around, a small gun popping from his forearm.  Before Lorand could make a quarter of a turn, before the gun could even begin to come out of his arm, Knives had shoved the Long Colt into Lorand's mouth.

"Lorand, please.  Try not to be such a hopelessly inferior creature, yes?  At least look at me when I shout in your ear."

Lorand stared straight down the nasty looking barrel and nodded.  Knives slowly removed the gun and dried the saliva on Lorand's vest.  "Yes sir.  I'm very very sorry sir.  You're right sir, I should be more attentive sir.  It's just that I was trying to fix the Teraformer and, and, and…"

"And…?"

"And it needs one more component to work.  Don't worry though, boss.  I can make it myself pretty quickly, so we don't need to go hunting for anything else."

Knives nodded.  "I assume that there is a component like this out there?"

Lorand nodded. "I think so… but it's in the possession of the Feds. Some sort of Lost Technology research project, I dunno."

"I doubt the government has even half of an idea of the treasure trove they sit on.  Pathetic, only humans could sit on a pile of diamonds, then claim that they're worthless simply because they need polishing.  They make no sense."

Lorand shrugged.  He would have killed to get his cybernetic hands on government-held Lost Technology.

"At least I won't have to live with their false superiority for much longer."

"What did you say sir?"

"Nothing Lorand.   Nothing I feel like simplifying down to your level.  Genius you may be at machines, you share your species inability to truly understand what is going on."  Knives pulled a vial of blood

Lorand pointed at a vial Knives held in his left hand.  "Is that Johnny's blood sample?"

Knives held up the small vial.  "This?  No, but I got it from his blood.  This is… a vaccine.  A vaccine for the planet itself."

Wolfwood sat bolt upright, throwing the black cat that was sleeping on him to the ground.  As his eyes slowly grew accustomed to the dark, he tried to remember where he was.

[Stupid wake up amnesia.  Okay Nicholas, get a grip on yourself.  You're in… star.  Something with a star… sheriff's star. Sheriff… Sheriff Lina! Right, that girl Vash stayed with, Lina.  She's the sheriff here now.  I'm in her guest room; Vash is in Jessica's guest room.  Now why the hell did I wake up?]

Automatic gunfire rang through the streets, followed by a small explosion.

[The fighting noises.  Right.]

He struggled out of bed and pulled a shirt on, not bothering to button it up.  He opened the door and crept down the stairs.  He found Lina in the kitchen, tugging on a pair of boots.

"Go back to bed Father. This doesn't concern you."

Wolfwood sat down at the table.  "Please don't call me Father, I may be both a priest and a father, but I'll never get used to being called that.  What's going on?"

Lina finished pulling on her boots and reached for her gun belt.  "Some sort of gunfight by the Sky City crash ruins.  A deputy just came up with the news."

Wolfwood lit a cigarette.  "Who'd attack the ruins? I thought they were stripped of everything?"

"Almost everything, it's kind of like a museum now.  Anyway, all my deputy said was that they were wearing all black."

Wolfwood's eyes narrowed.  "All black?  Were they using strange weapons?"

Lina stopped loading her gun.  "…Yes, some sort of rifle that didn't shoot bullets, how did you know that?"

Wolfwood grounded his cigarette into a nearby ashtray and stood up.  He walked over to where he had leaned his Cross Punisher earlier.  "This does concern me.  Much more than it concerns you."  He hefted the Cross Punisher on his back and headed towards the door. "Stay here, protect your family.  I'll take care of this."

"But-"

"You don't know what's out there.  I do.  Please, let me handle this."

Lina ran up to Wolfwood and grabbed his shoulder.  "No way you're going without me.  I'm the freaking sheriff! It's my job to go with you!"

_Click_.

Lina felt the cold touch of steel against her chin.  Wolfwood had grabbed the gun from her holster and was now pulling the hammer back.  "I'm sure you're a great sheriff, but believe me, you won't serve your town by dying.  That's exactly what's going to happen if you go out into the night right now.  I've got enough blood on my hands, I don't want yours on my conscious as well."

Wolfwood raised his fist to pound on the door. Before he could hit it, the door opened to reveal Vash, still in his pj's, his gun belt strapped around his waist. 

"Funny, I thought you were the one who didn't like to get involved in other people's problems?" he said.

"It's not someone else's problem.  It's mine.  You want to see the people who hate you even more than you're brother?"

Vash nodded, the turned behind him.  "Jessica? You might want to take your family and head over to Mark and Lina's.  It's gonna get messy."

A pair of Flock members were patrolling the west side of the ship ruins when they noticed a figure slip towards the ship. 

"Hey buddy!  There's nasty work afoot.  Why don't you just go home like a good Christian?"

The figure raised his hands and slowly walked towards them.  "Like a good Christian?  Are you guys the definition of good Christians? In that case, I'm acting exactly like a good Christian."

The pair raised their laser rifles toward the figure.  "Go home.  Otherwise, you'll just end up in the afterlife much sooner."

The figure came even closer, revealing a red-haired man with a poncho and a black Stetson.  "Nice guns.  Mind if I take a look?"  His hands shot out and grabbed the long metal barrels.  The brethren grunted and pulled the triggers.  

_Click_.

A surprised look came over the red head's face.  "Now how did that happen?" 

The brethren stared in disbelief as their gun barrels turned to liquid and slid up the man's hands.  He pulled back as the liquid metal resolved itself into a knife between each finger on both hands.

Johnny's hands flew out, and the brethren crumpled to the ground.  Johnny stepped over their corpses and raced towards the ship.

Wolfwood flipped a clasp and threw off the covering on the Cross Punisher.  He balanced it under the crook of his arm and leaned out towards the street.  He grabbed a quick peep of the guards around the ship, then pulled back.  Across the street, Vash was doing the same as he loaded a clip into his Long Colt. 

Wolfwood held up two fingers and pointed to the left.  Vash nodded, held up three fingers and pointed to the right.

Vash did a mental count. [One, two, three, NOW!]  He dove out and fired three quick shots into the night.  He heard Wolfwood's machine gun blaze, but trusted the reformed priest not to kill them.  The pair rushed up and pointed their guns at the fallen brethren.  Wolfwood held his finger up to his lips. 

"Ch-Chapel?"

Wolfwood slowly nodded, then hit the man in the head.

Vash quickly pistol-whipped the other four.  "Any serious wounds?"

"One graze.  He'll live."

Vash nodded, and they slipped forward to the ship.

"He called you Chapel, I thought your teacher was called Chapel?" Vash whispered eventually.

"Chapel is a title among the Flock, it refers to their point man.  My teacher was Chapel the Evergreen, I was called Chapel the Peacemaker, you get the idea.  I have no idea how he would have known me though, that kid looked way too young to even have been out of diapers by the time I left the Flock with my teacher."

"He was staring at your cross when he said it.  Maybe the new guy has one as well?"

Wolfwood shrugged.  "It would make sense, my teacher had a Cross Punisher.  Maybe the new guy has no originality."

They had reached the ship.  Wolfwood and Vash pressed themselves up against the walls surrounding one of the doors.  "I wonder what the new Chapel is called," Wolfwood said quietly to himself.

"Chapel the Born-Again.  And you'd be proud, Nicholas, he does honor to your name."

Vash and Wolfwood's heads swiveled around, looking for the source of the voice.

"I gave up the title of Chapel a long time ago!" Wolfwood shouted.

"I didn't mean that.  I meant he did honor to the name of Wolfwood."  In the darkness behind them, a pair of glowing eyes could be seen.  No warmth in this light, just a piercing gaze that saw everything.

"Danil.  Father Danil."

Danil stepped further out of the blackness and smiled.  "Yes Nicholas.  I'm ever so glad to see you in the land of mortals again.  Did you have fun in the afterlife?  A nice little trip Knives sent you on.  But your bloodline still live on, eh?  Jeremiah did fine to your name under me.  Chapel the Born-Again.   He wasn't as good as you, I must admit, but I don't think we've ever had one as good as you."

Danil started pacing around Vash and Wolfwood.  "Oh don't get me wrong, he's strong enough.  The Cross Punisher he carries is huge.  And I won't say that he isn't fast, he's just not as fast as you.  Also, he lacks something.  Killer instinct, dumb luck, Providence, he just doesn't seem to have it like you do.  Then again, I was never the teacher that Chapel the Evergreen was."

Wolfwood's breathing grew short.  "No… he couldn't have.  He couldn't have walked down my path.  Millie wouldn't have let him.  He couldn't…"

"Oh, but he did.  Excuse me a second, would you?"  Danil pulled what looked like a pen from his pocket and spoke into it.  "Sister Amy, Sister Mary, would you please head over to the East perimeter, I believe that we have an unwanted guest."

Johnny stopped in mid stride.  A quick gesture with his hand, and a knife formed between his index and middle fingers.  He slowly brought his foot back behind him and glanced backwards. 

[Where are you?  You're not like the other ones,] he thought. [No… I can tell that there's something different about you.  You're like me…]

Still looking behind him, his hand shot out and the knife went flying.  A small grunt was all the reward he got.  "Yep.  You're jes like me, aren't you?  Men, but not of men?"

Two black clad figures walked towards Johnny.  Identical save for their eyes, both of which were two colored.  Green and brown, and brown and green. 

"Now what exactly-"

"-Do you mean by that?"

They split apart and started circling Johnny.

"We may not be of men-"

"-But we certainly _aren't_ men."

Johnny tipped his hat.  "Beg your pardon ladies.  Now, what exactly are your names?"

"Sister Amy."

"Sister Mary."

As the pair circled, they left copies behind them.  Soon, Johnny was surrounded by dozens of copies of the sisters.

"You waste your time, we already have what we came for."

"And we already took it away. The Father merely wished to speak with his prodigal 'son'".

Johnny silently cursed.  Failure was not accepted very well among the Gung-Ho Guns, and he certainly didn't want to end up like Julius the Necromancer. 

"We outnumber you cowboy."

"Why don't you just run?"

Johnny pulled his hat down in front of his eyes and laughed.  "Oh really ladies?  I think not."  His eyes flashed.  "I've seen this trick before!"

Vash's grip on his Long Colt increased.  "Bullshit," he said.

"Ahh, the Plant speaks.  _Homo seraphimis_.  What information do you have to give us now?  Where, exactly, is the lie in my gospel?"

Vash glared at Danil.  "From what I can tell, your gospel has many lies, but the one I was referring to was Jeremiah.  I know that kid, I helped raise that kid.  He would never turn to your side, never!  He has too much good from his mother and father in him to believe in you!"

Danil chuckled. "Oh really?  Can you really say that with any certainty, Stampede?  When was the last time you saw Jeremiah?  How do you know what type of man he grew into?  For that matter, when was the last time you saw your abomination of a daughter?  Five, six years ago?  For a day?"  Danil ceased his pacing and walked up to Vash, staring at him eye-to-eye.  "When was the last time you saw your family, Vash?  Any of them? Your daughter? Your almost-son? Your friend?  That nice girl who you perverted to your worthless side?  Why are you running, Stampede, why?"

Vash opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, then seemed ready to speak, but Danil held his finger to his lips.  "No, no, no.  You don't need to answer now.  In fact, I expect that you even know the answer now.  Besides, it is hardly my place to mess with your emotions.  I leave that to your brother."  Danil turned on his heel to face Wolfwood.

Wolfwood ran a hand through his hair and stared at Danil.  "What now, Father? What other tantalizing pieces of information do you have for me?  I know you don't lie, it ain't in your nature.  What now?  A detailed list of who my son has killed?  That he's decided that I am worthless human being for betraying the Flock and not being alive to raise him?  Have you gone to kill Millie's family!?  What now, Danil?"

Danil began retreating into the darkness.  "No need to worry Nicholas, I would never harm the lovely Mille, or her family.  She is an innocent in this war, and we are low on innocents these days. Oh, and Vash?"

Vash looked up, still shaken.  "What?"

"I have a question that I have been rolling around in my mind lately about you and your brother.  Who is worse, the unknown Plant who would destroy all of humanity, or the world-renowned world-feared outlaw, who would have the arrogance to claim himself the race's savior?"

Johnny had run the sister's ragged.  They were still intact, but panting heavily.  They effort of dodging too many of the crazy Gung-Ho Guns flying blades was tiring. 

"Why don't you kill us?"

"Why string it out so long?"

Johnny laughed.  "Why?  Because it's fun! Why else?"

The twins cocked their head to the side, and raised their hands to their earrings. 

Sister Mary nodded. "The conversation is finished, we can leave now."

"It's been, fun, Johnny the Bladestorm."

The copies of the twins rushed towards Johnny.  Copy after copy flooded his vision, until he couldn't see anything but black.  When his vision cleared, he was standing alone in the desert with only the ruins of a crashed ship to keep him company.

"Damn it, damn it!  I knew we had a traitor!  I'll kill those sons of bitches!"  Fear of his assured death at Knives' hands had vanished, only his anger remained.   "Meeting point fifteen.  We're supposed to show up at meeting point fifteen, and they always arrive early."

Metal flowed down from the inside of Johnny's poncho along his arms and into his hands, forming a knife in each hand.  "I'm sure we can survive with two less Gung-Ho Guns."

Knives flipped the small vial through the fingers of his right hand and stared at the sea of frozen humans in front of him.  He had long ago fiddled with the cold sleep functions to ensure that they could never wake up, but he hadn't killed them.  Not yet.  He would kill them last.  Personally. 

He turned his attention back to the vial he was flipping in his hand. 

"What are you thinking about sir?" a deep voice said.  Martinez walked around and leaned on the railing above the cold sleep store.  "The virus, perhaps?"

Knives tossed the vial into the air and caught it with his right hand.  "No Martinez, I was thinking about my last fight with my brother, you remember that?"

Martinez nodded.  "Yes, I remember you sent me packing with Julius because you didn't trust the little weasel to carry out the back up plan on his own."

"Yes.  I was just thinking about the advantages my brother had over me in that fight, and how to correct that advantage."

Martinez shrugged.  "Oh, something else.  Schneider called in. Vash and Wolfwood recently met with Father Danil outside of the Sky City crash ruins."

"Then Johnny failed to stop the Teraformer from being taken?"

"Did you honestly expect him to?  No offense meant to Johnny, but he couldn't take down a group of the brethren _and_ Father Danil.  Hell, it's doubtful that he could take down Father Danil."

"True.  It doesn't really matter.  In fact, on some deep hidden level I was probably hoping it wouldn't end like that.  I wanted to meet Danil myself.  This irrational human who wants to kill all of my kind, little realizing that this would mean the death of his species.  And that, Martinez, really embodies all that I hate about humans and their illogical and destructive irrationality."

Martinez laughed.  "I'm sure he says the same thing about you sir."

Nikki: What happens when you see a friend you haven't seen in a while?  Sometimes they've changed, sometimes they haven't.  Often that change is superficial: a new hairstyle, an extra inch or so in height, or a new outfit.  Other times that change can be huge, something that changes them deep inside.  A wedding, a death, a birth, all things can bring about these changes.  But sometimes, the person you see again is just the same as they were the last time you saw them.  And sometimes that one you once thought was your friend, is now your greatest enemy.  Next Chapter: Black Engine.  


	18. Black Engine

And a Happy Easter. Or rather, Happy Good Friday, because that's when this should be uploaded.

Disclaimer: Take two eggs, beat, and slowly add… Okay, this cookie recipe joke is too silly for me. I do not own Trigun or any of its characters, they are the creations and property of Yasuhiro Nightow.

And a special thanks to MTS, who helped re-write, as she calls it, the "hormonal scene".

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Sandsteamer platforms are massive, multi-tiered affairs placed between town clusters. They were built after the Neon War to allow smaller towns the luxury of having a Sandsteamer visit the area.

The Steamer companies liked them because it meant more paying costumers without adding too many extra stops. The people in the small towns liked them because it meant the main method of travel on the planet would finally come to them.

The second floor of a Steamer platform is almost always completely taken up by sleeping quarters, not only for Steamer crewmembers and platform personnel, but also for customers waiting for the Sandsteamer to come. They are typically set up in suite style rooming, with two double beds per room and two rooms sharing a bathroom.

The night before, a bus had arrived at the platform at around eleven o'clock. A male and a female passenger had disembarked and checked into the SteamInn, as the hotel was known. They were given room 42, sharing a bathroom with room 44, which also had one male and one female occupant. In both rooms the man slept in a different bed than the woman. 

At roughly five-thirty, the first of Gunsmoke's twin suns began to peak over the horizon, slowly shedding light through the SteamInn's windows. The male occupant of room 42, a light sleeper by nature, pushed himself up and looked blearily out the window. Despite the rising suns, it was still quite dark in the room. He blinked a bit, then his eyes started glowing faintly as the machines behind them intensified the little light in the room. The man reached for a cross-shaped stud earring and put it in his ear. Then he quietly rose from the bed and tiptoed towards the bathroom.

In room 44, the male occupant slowly pulled the sheets down from over his head. While he normally detested waking up early, he had to do it regularly as part of his job. He glanced quickly to the still sleeping female in the other bed. His hand reached out to the desk beside his bed and grabbed a pair of reflective sunglasses. He pushed them up his nose and glanced again back at the sleeping female. His frowned, as if considering a possible scenario. He shook his head dismissively, then began creeping towards the bathroom.

Both men opened the doors at the same time, but gave little notice the other man on the side. They knew that they were sharing a bathroom. They crept in and slowly closed the doors behind them. They turned around and collided with each other, almost losing their balance. Then they realized who the other person was, and they did lose their balance, crashing to the floor.

"HOLY SHIT!"

"GOD IN HEAVEN!"

The bathroom doors burst open. Nikki, clad in a nightshirt, whipped around the doorjamb, a cocked Long Colt in her hand. Calamity, in sweatpants and a t-shirt, appeared out of the darkness of the room, electricity crackling between the four silver disks held between her fingers. ****

As one, they looked down at Evans and Jeremiah sprawled on the floor. Jeremiah raised his head and blinked. His eyes were glowing pink. "Why is everything all fuzzy?" he said. Evans smacked him in the side of the head and his eyes went back to normal. Nikki and Calamity looked back up towards each other, then slammed the doors and went back to bed.

* * *

"Nice hair," Calamity remarked.

Nikki said nothing and continued tuning her guitar. She shifted her position on the barstool slightly so she could reach the farther pins.

The bartender sidled up to them and placed a glass of iced tea in front of Calamity, who grabbed it absentmindedly.

"Did you get it dyed or something?"

Nikki shook her head. "It happened… after… Jenora."

Calamity nodded and bowed her head. "I won't ask."

"Can I ask?"

Calamity sipped at her drink. "Ask what? Oh, you mean this?" She held up her hand and sent sparks dancing between her fingers. "I dunno, I've always been able to do this. My brother, that guy with the poncho and the black hat back at Jenora, can do something like it. We were… just born differently I guess. Nothing wrong with that."

Nikki smiled and pushed her sunglasses up her nose. "I wish I had that kind of optimistic attitude." She plucked a string and frowned at the off-key note. She reached for the tuning knob and started turning.

Calamity shrugged and continued sipping her ice tea. "It's taking the boys a while to get back. It couldn't be that hard to get tickets?" She slipped her sleeve down to look at her watch.

Nikki's hand shot out grabbed Calamity by the forearm. She brought it, wrist up, in front of her face.

"Needle marks, Calamity? What the hell?"

Calamity pulled her arm free and pushed the sleeve of her coat up to cover it. "…Not in a while… I swear. Not for four months. Only… only when I need to forget."

Nikki glared at Calamity over her sunglasses. "And what do you need to forget? And why haven't you needed to lately?"

Calamity stood up and walked towards the bathroom. "… Just don't tell Jeremiah, okay?"

"Jeremiah? I'd be more worried about Evans finding out. He _is_ the one in the position to arrest you."

Calamity shook her head. "Jeremiah flinches whenever I steal a sandwich. I don't want him to know about this."

* * *

Jeremiah leaned against the ticket window and sighed. "I've got the strangest feeling of deja roo."

Evans lit a cigar and leaned beside him. "It's déjà vu, and why do you say that?"

"Nothing, it happened before you met me. Right before you met me to be specific."

Evans shrugged. "Goddamnit, why is the passenger list so restricted?"

"Because, Lieutenant, the Cavalry needs the steamer."

Evans dropped the cigar to the platform floor. He stamped it out and quickly stood at attention. "I apologize for the language, Colonel! I was expressing my annoyance that my friends and I are unable to charter Sandsteamer passage to LR town!"

A middle-aged woman in a Cavalry uniform walked out from behind a column and chuckled. "Oh come on Evans, drop the 'perfect soldier' act. One of the advantages of being an officer is that we lose that stupid _cay-det_ mentality. More to the point, I've known you since you were before you can remember."

Evans laughed and hugged the Cavalry officer. He turned to Jeremiah. "Sorry Jeremiah, this is my godmother, Colonel Mala 'Winchester' Randolph."

"Can she got us on the Steamer?"

Evans grimaced. "Er…maybe. Can you get us passage on the Steamer?"

Colonel Winchester stroked her chin. "Maybe. I can definitely get you on. Cavalry members can always hitch a lift on Cavalry transports. How many of you are ther?"

Jeremiah held up three fingers.

"Can any of you fight?"

Evans chuckled.

"You might say that, yes."

Evans bit down hard on his cigar to keep himself from bursting out laughing.

" 'I might say that'? You might want to clarify, Mr…?"

"Wolfwood. Jeremiah T. Wolfwood."

Evans overcame his laughing attack and held up a hand. "I can personally vouch for these guys Winchester. They're all easily as good as me in a fight."

"Oh really? In that case I'm definitely sure we can get you guys on, provided you have no qualms about doing some sentry duties."

Evans inhaled on his cigar than dropped it to the floor. Jeremiah crushed it under his boot. "Exactly what is the Steamer carrying that requires a Cavalry presence?" Evans asked.

Colonel Winchester looked at him pointedly. "It's an LT transfer to a research center."

"Ahhh, I gotcha. When do we leave?"

"In about half an hour. Gather up your friends and your luggage and report at the gangway at 0830 hours."

Evans saluted. "You got it Winchester!"

The Colonel pointed at Evans. "You may be my godson, but around the rest of the soldiers, you call me Ma'm or Colonel. You got that, Lieutenant?"

Evans nodded. "Yes Ma'm. Of course Ma'm!"

The Colonel nodded, then walked off to supervise the cargo loading.

Jeremiah and Evans started heading back to the Saloon to pick up Calamity and Nikki as well as their luggage.

"Well that worked out well," Jeremiah said.

"Very well," Evans replied.

"What's an LT transfer?" Jeremiah asked.

"Sorry buddy, I can't tell you that."

"Oh come on Evans, does it really matter? Who the hell am I going to tell? Who the hell would be stupid enough to attack a Cavalry guarded Steamer anyway?"

"Valid point. An LT transfer is a Lost Technology shipment. Probably sending stuff to a research lab somewhere, try and decipher it and whatnot."

The tan Sandsteamer chugged through the dunes, traveling through the no man's land between the towns, places that only the very brave dared travel alone.

* * *

Inside the bridge, the captain of the Sandsteamer stood behind the helmsman and sipped at his coffee. "What are the odds?" he said.

"What are the odds of what?" the helmsman responded.

"What are the odds that we'd run into those four again? It's almost as if they're following us Kaite."

Kaite chuckled. "Who's to say we aren't following them Captain? Maybe we're destined to help them get where they're going?"

The Captain shook his head and sipped at his coffee again. "I'm sorry Kaite, but after the Neon Wars, I really don't believe in destiny, fate, or providence anymore. Just in dumb, stupid coincidences."

* * *

When the had first met, Calamity and Nikki had gotten along fairly well. The fact that Nikki had saved Calamity from being carted off to jail certainly helped this, but the fact remained that they liked each other.

Nikki had tried to honor this by intentionally not bringing up Calamity's possible drug habits. They both pretended as if nothing had happened. Though they both knew it would have to come up eventually.

Currently, they were trying to get Calamity's long hair fixed in some semblance of order.

Nikki growled. "Why can't you just keep your hair short? It's so much easier to deal with!"

"I'm sorry, but I'm not overly fond of the boy look. It may work for you and your mother, but I dislike confusion about my gen-OW!"

"Sorry, didn't mean to pull your hair like that," Nikki said, grinning. "I don' suppose you've got a hair tie in that coat of yours?"

Grumbling, Calamity searched through the multitude of pockets lining her coat. "Let's see, detonators, C-4, grenades, leftover salmon sandwich, hygiene products. What the hell?" She pulled a black cat out of one of the larger pockets. It looked at her lazily and nyaoed. Calamity tossed the cat behind her, which landed on its feet and walked away towards the food counter.

* * *

Jeremiah leaned over the railing on the Steamer observation deck, letting the wind rush pass his face. _Damn,_ he thought. _It's kind of nice to be able to relax like this. Never thought I'd sat that whilst traveling with a wanted outlaw among a Cavalry regiment. They wouldn't take her would they? Her face isn't very well known, but Evans could tell them. Damn, I hope he doesn't do that. I sure as hell don't want to fight Evans._

"Can't any of you idiots put this machine gun array in place?"

Jeremiah snapped out of his inner monologue. He turned to see a Cavalry captain berating a bunch of Cavalrymen about setting up a fixed machine gun array. Evans was standing at ease behind them, smoking a cigar.

"I can help!" Jeremiah called out. He leant his Cross Punisher against the Steamer's outer wall and walked over.

Evans grinned. "Jeremiah, you just violated the first rule of soldiering, 'Never volunteer.'"

Jeremiah laughed and approached the struggling Cavalrymen. The three soldiers looked gratefully at Jeremiah and shuffled to the side so he could get a grip on the gun. Jeremiah got a grip on it, then lifted it out of their hands and fitted it into the mount. "No problem," he said. "What's this fire? 7.52? Same thing I used in my machine gun."

The Cavalrymen's jaws dropped. The Cavalry captain raised his eyebrows, then shrugged. He turned to Evans. "Alright, I guess we're done here. You're the officer on duty for now. You know what to do if anything happens Lieutenant?"

"I didn't enlist yesterday sir."

"No, that you didn't."

The captain left, leaving Evans grinning at Jeremiah with the other Cavalryman making strange gibbering noises. Eventually one of them gained enough coherence to say "Jeeze, I don't want to get in a fight with you, fist or gun!"

Evans flicked his cigar over the side of the Steamer. "While I wouldn't suggest a gun fight with the man, I wouldn't be too worried about a fist fight."

"B-b-but sir! With that kind of strength he could knock any of us through the wall with one punch!"

Evans smiled. "Yes, but first he'd have to land that punch. C'mere Jeremiah, we're gonna teach you how to really fight."

Jeremiah shrugged and walked through the dumbfounded soldiers. Evans positioned Jeremiah facing the back of the Steamer and then took a position opposite him.

"Now, you're main problem, as far as I can tell Jeremiah, is that you're too solid."

"Too solid?"

"Yeah, basic chemistry Jeremiah. There are three states of matter, right? Solid, liquid, and gas. You're usually solid, relying on your strength and your Cross Punisher to get you out of trouble. You've got to be like a liquid, go with the flow sometimes. Other times, you've got to fill the room, be everywhere at once, like a gas."

Jeremiah held up a hand. "Sorry to interrupt, but if you teach me how to do this, will you let me teach you how to shoot?"

Evans shook his head. "My shooting's very much a lost cause. Your ability to fist fight is not. Now what I want you to do is punch me. I'm gonna show you how to be like a liquid, to go with the opponents force."

Jeremiah nodded and got ready to punch Evans. His eyes glanced up and spotted a black shape on the horizon. It grew larger and larger within a few seconds. He focused his cyber eyes on it, enlarging the image like a telescope. His eyes opened wide with shock.

"Jeremiah? Are you paying attention to me? What are you looking at?" Evans turned around and spotted the black shape, now clearly a large moving object. "What the hell is that?" Evans asked.

"Black engine. It's a damn Sandsteamer," Jeremiah responded.

"A black Sandsteamer? I didn't know they had any black Sandsteamers running?" The young Cavalryman looked questioningly at Evans.

"There aren't any," Evans said. He and Jeremiah pushed past the Cavalrymen and leaned over the railing to get a good look at the on coming Steamer. Jeremiah's eyes focused on the black Steamer and discerned two familiar figures. One was floating a foot above the deck of the Steamer, the other was clad in a multi-colored coat.

Jeremiah turned around and yelled, "EVERYONE! CLOSE AND AVERT YOUR EYES!"

All twenty Cavalrymen on guard looked at him as if he were insane. Evans took one look at his friends to realize how deathly serious he was. "DO AS HE SAYS! THAT'S AN ORDER!"

The Cavalrymen nodded and closed their eyes after readying their rifles.

"You should look away too. Those sunglasses aren't going to protect you from this."

"From what?" Evans asked as he turned away.

As the black engine drew closer, a blinding flash burst out of the black Sandsteamer, briefly eclipsing the double suns. One Cavalryman looked and fell to the ground clutching his face.

"That," Jeremiah said. He ran over to the fallen Cavalryman and shoved him into the Steamer. "Your sight should return in about twenty minutes, lie down until then, we're going to need everyone."

Evans ran up next to him, saber drawn. "Don't people respect the Cavalry anymore?"

Jeremiah shook his head. "These guys don't. But they'll respect this." He flipped a clasp and the cloth covering his Cross Punisher flew off, shooting behind them as the Sandsteamers chugged forward.

Jeremiah brought the massive gun around and slammed it down on the deck. The skull shaped grip in the intersection of the four arms grinned at the black steamer. Behind it, Jeremiah's eyes started to glow brightly.

* * *

Joseph leaned on the rail of the Flock's Sandsteamer, a little winded from the exertion of making such a large flash of light. He looked up to Ophelia, who was staring at the other Steamer with a look of pure anger.

"What are you staring at?" Joseph asked.

Ophelia pointed to a figure standing on the deck of the other Steamer. "It's him," she projected, "Chapel the Born-Again."

Joseph looked across at the man standing on the deck of the Cavalry controlled Sandsteamer. He stared at the man, and he stared at the cross, with the skull in the center.

"I don't believe it. I don't believe it! CAN YOU HEAR ME, JEREMIAH T. WOLFWOOD? YOU BETRAYED US, YOU SON OF A BITCH! THE LOWEST CIRCLE OF HELL AWAITS YOU!"

With that, Joseph crossed his arms, reached into his multi-colored coat, and pulled out a pair of modified Project SEEDS age pistols. Disregarding the laser targeting, which would be useless on the moving Steamer, he raised the guns and started firing.

Jeremiah lifted his Cross Punisher with one hand and hit a switch. The long arm opened up and the double machine gun barrels inside started spitting fire.

Ophelia looked at Joseph and realized the man was too caught up with his vendetta with Jeremiah. Joseph had always secretly felt that Jeremiah had received most of Father Danil's favor when he had been training them, and when Jeremiah had left the group; Joseph had taken it very, very hard.

Since he wouldn't be giving the orders, the duty fell to her. "Fire at will! Boarding parties, get ready! Remember, we're only after the J-26 component! Forget everything else, only getting the component matters!"

Ophelia flipped the first card off the top of her deck and looked at it. "The ten of swords, how ideal." She flipped it over in her hand and skimmed it across the gap between the steamers.

Amid the laser and gun fire, the lone card spun, then something strange happened. The ten swords printed on the card appeared to peel off and grow into life sized, solid, sharp swords.

But before the swords get anywhere, ten bullets knocked them all off course, flying harmlessly into the lower part of the Steamer or high above it.

Ophelia stared at the woman with the smoking red and green Long Colts. _The abomination_, she thought. She was about to throw another card at her when another woman stepped out next to abomination. This woman was dressed in a green coat covered in pockets and had waist-length red hair tied up in one long braid. She also had a face Ophelia would never forget. _It's Clarissa! How fortunate._

She turned in mid-air to face the boarding parties. "Change of plans!" she projected, "We have two objectives now! Aside from the component you are to capture the girl with the red hair and the green coat! I want her alive! I repeat, we need her alive!"

The boarding party nodded, then ran across the deck and leapt across the gap to the other Steamer.

* * *

Kaite struggled to keep control as the gun battle raged on the decks below him. The Captain threw away his coffee and ran to the side window, watching the fight. "Ready the main cannons!" He called out. "I want us to be shooting at them as soon as we can!"

Colonel Winchester ran up into the bridge, an exceptionally long rife on her shoulder. "Captain! Ready the-"

"Already taken care of, Colonel Winchester."

The Colonel nodded, then turned back and raced down the stairs.

* * *

Calamity's face darkened as she saw the floating figure on the other Sandsteamer. The outfit was new, as well as the large scars across her throat, but there was no mistaking it. It was Ophelia Drysdale. And if anything Jeremiah had said could be believed, Ophelia had gone down a very bad path since they had last met.

Calamity flipped out a silver disk, charged it, and flung it at Ophelia, who quickly threw a tarot card to block it. The disk struck a flying pentagram, it's electricity discharging harmlessly into the air.

"Insolent child! I practically raised you Clarissa!"

Calamity gritted her teeth. "It's Calamity, and no matter what you did in the past, this is now!"

"Fine then! Brethren, do not attack the girl! I'll defeat her, and you can clean up after me!"

* * *

Evans backed up until he was leaning against the guitar Nikki had strapped to her back. Nikki fired off a shot at a Flock member on the black engine, knocking her laser rifles out of her hands.

"It appears we have two rivers of bad blood running here," Evans said.

Nikki turned her head to the side. "I really wish you wouldn't use metaphors like that."

"Sorry," Evans said as he disarmed a Flock member with his saber and broke the man's wrist with his right hand.

**BLAM!**

Colonel Winchester's large rifle roared out and flew into a Flock member, the impact knocking him back into the Steamer wall.

"Can't say I approve of your superior officer's methods," Nikki said.

"We're soldiers. We kill. It's part of the job, gruesome as it is."

Nikki shook her head. "We're going to have to have a talk about redemption and killing soon."

Evans shrugged. "Fine, just not when people are trying to kill us."

Winchester squinted at the large cannons near the top of the black engine. "Get that kid with the cross gun over here! Those things are about to fire!"

Nikki looked over to Jeremiah. His teeth grinding together, he dodged and returned fire with one target only, the man across the gap in the multi-colored coat.

"I think Jeremiah's a little occupied," Nikki said.

"Alright then, how about that girl in green? I heard her say something about grenades earlier."

"NIKKI! HEADS UP!"

Calamity pulled a grenade out of her coat and lobbed it across the gap. Nikki took aim with the red Long Colt and shot the grenade in mid-air. The resulting explosion threw Ophelia back. She rose from the smoke like an angry goddess, and threw a card at Calamity that quickly transformed into a salvo of sharpened staves.

"Well, she has grenades, but I think she's a little occupied at the moment as well."

"DAMNIT! If they get that cannon working, we're all dead."

Nikki squinted at the cannon, judging the distance, studying the fastenings, then nodded. "I got it, just watch my back."

Winchester jacked a shell into her rifle and turned to Evans. "Is this girl crazy?"

Evans kicked a Flock member in the shin, spun around and sliced another one in the arm. "Bitchy? Occasionally. Serious? Sometimes to a fault. Artistic? Extremely. Crazy though? No. If she says she can take out a cannon with those pistols of hers, I believe it."

"You're going to have to give me some time, I can't work miracles," Nikki replied.

Winchester nodded, then popped of another shot. "Alright, Evans, she's your watch. Keep her safe until she can knock out those cannons."

* * *

Jeremiah grunted and ducked behind the cover of the slightly raised partition under the railing. He was out of regular ammunition, and he wasn't sure what explosive rounds would do. He flipped a couple of switches and leapt up, the Cross Punisher spitting the enormous armor piercing bullets.

Joseph ran to the side, firing at Jeremiah all the while. He ducked under a covered area and hid behind a pillar while he reloaded his guns. "You know Jeremiah, it's been a while I've been in a fight that lasted this long. Most of the them I blind, then shoot or stab. It's actually kind of fun."

Jeremiah frowned. "Well I'm glad I could fulfill your sick sense of sadism you self-righteous asshole!"

"Such language Jeremiah! Am I self-righteous? Of course I am! I'm doing God's own work, why shouldn't I be self-righteous?"

"Because you don't know that you're doing God's work?"

Joseph laughed. "How can you doubt, Chapel? One of those abominations had your father killed!"

"But another one raised me. And what you and the rest of the Flock consider to be the greatest abomination is close enough to me that I consider her my sister. So damn you, damn Ophelia, damn Father Danil, and damn the entire Flock!" Jeremiah shouted. He lifted his Cross Punisher and pulled the triggers. Joseph flung himself out from behind the pillar and began to return fire.

* * *

Calamity dodged the fireball that had once been a card marked "Magician" and threw some more charged disks at Ophelia. _Damn it, this is getting nowhere. We've both learned to much… Maybe if I take out the Steamer?_

With this in mind, she reached into one of her coat pockets and pulled out a plastic explosives pack. Most of her explosives packs had either a magnet or some sort of adhesive. This one in particular had a powerful magnet attached to it.

Calamity flipped out several of her small metal disks and charged them up. She began running to the side and was pleased to see Ophelia matching her sideways movement. Calamity's hand darted out and skimmed the silver disks across the gap between the moving Sandsteamers. With her other hand, she flung the explosives pack across, but at a much lower angle. It hit the lower side of the steamer and stuck in place.

Calamity pulled out another explosive pack and another pair of metal disks, and prepared to do it again.

* * *

Evans dodged laser fire as he continued to fence with the Flock. He glanced down at Nikki, who was crouching behind the low partition. "Got it figured out yet?" he yelled. "Not to rush you but I've got a whole bunch of people dressed for a funeral who want to fight me."

Nikki grinned, then shot up, turning to face the black engine. Her guns flashed behind and the familiar _Ka-Chunk_ of her guitar reloading her guns broke through the gunblasts. She brought her pistols around, snapped them shut, then fired a twelve-shot barrage at the first cannon. She brought her guns behind her, reloaded, then turned on the second cannon. She did this for all five of the large guns on the black Sandsteamer, blowing the smoke away from her Long Colts when she was finished. All in the time it took Evans to go three sword passes with a Flock member.

"Good, we just need some sort of shock and those things will fall right off!"

"Will this work?" Calamity shouted. She pulled out a detonator and thumbed the switch. Explosions rocked the black Steamer, sending all the Flock members flying. Up on the bridge, Kaite struggled to keep control on the Steamer. The cannons slowly tipped off the Steamer, most of them falling into the gap between the two moving Sandsteamers.

Joseph's voice broke through the din. "Retreat! Retreat! Everyone, fall back! Back on the Steamer, NOW!"

The Flock boarding party rushed past the Cavalrymen and leapt over the rail to the other Steamer. As the black Steamer pulled away, some of the Flock members didn't make the jump. They fell screaming to the sands.

Everyone on the Cavalry controlled Sandsteamer winced. That was definitely no way to go.

Calamity walked over to Jeremiah and helped him up. He had been close to the edge and the explosion had knocked him backwards. She helped brush him off. "Tch, after I went to all the trouble of getting you better dressed."

Jeremiah shrugged. "Sorry."

Nikki looked up. "Ahh, I thought you looked better dressed Jeremiah."

Jeremiah frowned. "Why do you think someone dressed me? Why couldn't I have picked these clothes out myself?"

"Because you have no dress sense Jeremiah," Evans said as he sheathed his sword.

"Like you can talk."

"Hey, it's a uniform. Chicks want a man in uniform."

Both Nikki and Calamity bit their lips, fighting the laugh

Nikki cleared her throat as she holstered her guns. Quick as lightning, she had her arm around Evans, her mouth close to his ear. "Thank you for protecting me, big guy. I bet your eyes are soooo dreamy behind those shades," she purred. Jeremiah growled and the pair burst out laughing.

Major Winchester threw her long gun over her shoulder and shook her head. "Kids. Able to bounce back from anything. Damn I hate getting old."

* * *

Joseph stuck his hand out to help Ophelia up. She pulled herself upright, still levitating above the deck. "We missed our chance to get our hands on the nanomachines in Clarissa. Ungrateful whelp."

Joseph shrugged. "Did you expect her to come easily to the path of righteousness, knowing the road she took? Anyway, there will be other chances. As long as we got the Teraformer component, this was not in vein."

A Flock member stepped behind him and held out a piece of machinery roughly the size of a basketball.

Joseph nodded. "Our Sandsteamer may be all but crippled, but we have what we came for! The Lord has guided our actions! Soon, His revenge will be felt across this planet! And the deceivers, the false lights, they will know our wrath!"

As one, the Flock members responded, "Praise be to God!"

* * *

Blayne tapped her knife-fans impatiently against the wooden posts Meryl and Millie were strapped to. She had just led the pair of insurance ladies out for a bathroom break, and her patience was almost shot.

"How much longer must I baby-sit these two?" she shouted.

"Baby-sit? I fancy that both of them are old enough to be your mother," Legato said. He stepped in front of Meryl and stared into her eyes.

Meryl scowled, then spat back into Legato's face. "You monster!"

Legato wiped his face on his sleeve and shrugged. "I prefer 'demon' actually, but it will do for now."

Millie whimpered then turned to Meryl. "I don't think we can get ourselves out of this one Meryl."

"Of course you can't Miss Thompson. That's the idea. We want them to come and save you."

"Our kids you mean?" Meryl asked.

"Them… and others."

Blayne knelt down and stroked one of the dozens of wolves that surrounded the dunes. "I wish they would hurry up and get here."

"Have patience, little cousin. I wish to see the Stampede in pain as well, but the waiting makes the final payoff all the sweeter."

Blayne begin to chuckle, and soon Legato joined her. "That's right, sir. I'll finish what you started at LR. You brought him to the edge, now I'll push him over. I'll show him just how worthless humanity is."

* * *

Vash: Journeys come together, paths converge. A reunion that couldn't be avoided. Family ties are indeed strong, especially after being reconnected. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say. But when the demons of old wake up again, are the bonds of family, of friendship, of love, strong enough to survive? Next Chapter: Eyes Open


	19. Eyes Open

Ye gods, this is a record for me. Don't think I've ever written a new chapter this fast. Maybe my muse was working on overdrive or something.

Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun, its characters, places, events, etc.

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Raifen glanced over his blades. Both had been sharpened beyond reason, and could easily cut through a steel pillar in an instant. If his second did her job, his death would be relatively quick and painless one.

"Not that I deserve it," he said to himself. "Not after what I've done."

Specicide. It was a hard word to wrap one's mind around. Raifen had helped bring on the downfall of an entire species. _Homo sapiens_ would soon be a name lost to the dusts of history. In all likelihood _Homo seraphimis_ as well.

His clan would die sooner then the rest of humanity, in a couple of hours to be precise. An undeservedly clean death for him, but an honorable one for his clan at least.

Raifen just wished he could help Zarlina before the end.

* * *

"Good news, bad news time."

"Oh yeah, what's the good news?" Wolfwood said as he put a cigarette in his mouth.

"The good news," Vash responded, "is that we now have both transportation and the fuel to make it run." He rapped the hood of the jeep they were sitting on.

"And the bad news?" Wolfwood asked.

"The bad news is that I have absolutely no idea where to go," Vash said. He cupped his head in his hands and sighed. "Not a single lead or clue about Knives." Vash looked at Wolfwood, staring off into the sandy expanse that surrounded them, barely there.

"I'm sorry, but what did you just say? I kind of drifted off."

Vash frowned. "Still thinking about what Danil said, huh?"

Wolfwood nodded slowly.

"He's a good kid Nick, I promise."

A long string of ash fell off of Wolfwood's cigarette. "What were you saying before, Vash?"

"I said I don't know where to go."

"Lost your way, Vash the Stampede?"

They leapt off the hood of the car and whirled around. Vash's left hand split open and a gun came rocketing out, flipped around and rested on the top of his arm. At the same time, Wolfwood went for the Grader automatic he had in his jacket.

A thin man leaned against a large rock behind the car. He held his palms out in front of him. "I'm not here to fight, not yet at least. I'm only here to act as a guide."

Vash pulled out his red sunglasses and pushed them up the bridge of his nose. Wolfwood already had his on. The sight of two dangerous men, dressed in black, with sunglasses covering their eyes and guns cocked, ready, and pointing at him unnerved the man more than a little bit.

"Who are you, mister?" Vash asked.

"I am a Gun-Ho gun, Schneider the Speedfreak! Now, if you gentlemen would please follow me."

"And why would we do that?" Wolfwood asked.

"You're looking for Knives, right? Who's to say he doesn't want to see you?"

"We don't have any other options, we've got nothing else to go on!" Vash whispered to Wolfwood.

"You don't think I don't know that?"

Schneider began to turn around, stopped, and said, "You might want to take the car, I'm a little… fast."

* * *

Evnas snapped his cigar case shut and reached down for his boot knife.

"What happened to that government issue piece of crap you had before?" Jeremiah asked as he pet the black cat sitting on the fence next to him.

Evans cut the tip off of his cigar. "It got shot. To be perfectly honest I don't know where this one came from. It shouldn't even exist."

"Why? What's the wood hilt made of?"

"Cypress."

"You can't grow cypress on Gunsmoke," Jeremiah said.

Evans nodded and pulled out his lighter. "I know. Some old guy at Lasuken had it. I guess he wanted to give it to me."

"Where'd he get the knife then? It _couldn't_ have grown here."

Evans shrugged. "I dunno, maybe he was a ghost who likes handing out knives to people."

"You really think it could have been a ghost?"

Evans lit his cigar and snapped the lighter shut. "Well I'd be lying if I said I didn't believe in ghosts at this point."

Jeremiah leaned against the fence surrounding the LR graveyard. "Where the hell are they?" he muttered.

"Who, your parents or Nikki and Calamity?"

"Either, I just don't like talking about ghosts near a graveyard."

"We're right here," Nikki said as she and Calamity walked towards them.

Calamity reached into the bag and pulled out a package. "7.52 caliber, right? Here's your ammunition." She handed the bag to Jeremiah, who started ripping open the packages and loading the ammunition into his open Cross Punisher.

"How was convincing the people to load your guitar?" Evans asked.

Nikki rolled her eyes and leaned against the fence. "Don't ask. No appreciation for music."

"They might not, but I do, little spiderfly," a voice said from the graveyard.

They jumped to their feet, whirling around, looking for the voice. Jeremiah loaded the last cartridge into his Cross Punisher while he looked around, his eyes flashing through a spectrum of colors.

"Where are you? Who are you?"

The voice laughed. "Where I am is a… difficult question really. As to who I am, better to ask me who I was. Let me tell you a story. There once was a man, who played the greatest music, on the greatest stage of all. Then, he got what every musician truly wants, for his last performance to be the greatest and most beautiful of his career. A duet with the sixty-billion double dollar man, it was. Never in his life had the man produced such music, and he went to his death knowing the performance would never be topped."

"What the hell?" Nikki said. "Another walking corpse?"

The voice from the graveyard chuckled. "No, no. My body was taken apart years ago, but my soul remains, and it's the soul that feels the music."

If they squinted, they could barely see a man's outline in the light of the suns as the continued their slow course down to the horizon. A man carrying a saxophone.

"But enough of the games. You may call me Midvalley the Hornfreak. And I've decided to show the little musician where a stage is. A stage on which the greatest show will continue. New performers have been brought out, and the old guard are anxious to see if the audience approves."

"I thought we were waiting for someone," Calamity said.

"What, your parents? Go on, keep waiting. I'm sure they won't mind you not coming. I mean, the major insurance disaster at Dankin couldn't keep them too long, could it?"

Nikki's fist clenched. "How do you know where they are?"

Midvalley laughed. "Come with me, if you're really that interested in finding out."

Swank saxophone music replaced Midvalley's voice and started moving out of the graveyard and into the dunes. Jeremiah and Nikki ran after the moving sound.

Calamity and Evans looked at each other. "We're about to chase after two people who are chasing a ghost playing the saxophone," Evans said.

"Yeah, your point?" Calamity responded.

"Don't have one, just making sure you knew what you were getting into," Evans responded, dashing after Nikki and Jeremiah.

"From what I hear, you're the one who jumps into things without thinking!"

* * *

Vash leaned out the window and shaded his eyes with his hand. "Good Lord, can that guy move!"

Wolfwood nodded, his attention on driving. "You aren't kidding. We're going what, fifty iles an hour?" He glanced down at the speedometer. "I stand corrected, fifty-five iles an hour."

Schneider slowed down and ran alongside Vash and Wolfwood's car, keeping perfect pace. "Good thing you guys had the car, or we'd never get there!" He accelerated and moved into the lead again.

"Vash, if this doesn't lead us anywhere, I'm going to kill that little bastard."

"I thought we agreed on this Wolfwood."

"Yeah, but this guy pisses me off more than even you do."

"Alrighty boys, you can stop the car now!"

Wolfwood hit the brakes and the jeep slowly rolled to a stop. Schneider ran a few circles to give him enough room to slow down, then stopped as well. He crossed his arms and nodded towards the crater behind him. "Get your stuff, I'll see you in there." Then he raced off over the lip and down out of sight.

Vash and Wolfwood leapt out. Vash started trudging up the hill while Wolfwood stayed behind to retrieve his Cross Punisher.

"Wow, I've never seen so many wolves!" Vash called down from the lip of the crater. "And who's the cute girl in the middle of th… Oh Jesus no. WOLFWOOD! GET UP HERE!"

Wolfwood yanked the Punisher out and ran up the lip as fast as he could with the massive gun on his back. The sight that greeted him made him weak at the knees. From the lip, the sands sloped downwards into a huge crater, with a raised platform of rock in the middle, almost like a stadium. Growling wolves lined the sloped pit and sat in guard over the platform, where Schneider stood between two posts. Slightly in front of the posts stood a blonde woman in Victorian era clothing, a closed fan in each hand. Tied to each post with Schneider holding a pistol to their heads, were Millie and Meryl, who could only stare blankly at the man they had been seeking for so long, and the man they knew to be dead.

Nobody spoke, only the growling of wolves filled the silence of the craters, until a minute later, music could be heard approaching them. Saxophone music, played all too familiarly.

Four figures crested the dune, and all stopped when they saw the grizzly scene before them. Words escaped all of them. The man dressed in the Cavalry officer's uniform started to go for his sword, but a voice stopped him.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Brave move to be sure, but do you really think you could stop us before the women died?"

"M-m-Midvalley?" Vash stammered. "How?'

The woman with the fans shook her head. "You are presented with this, and all you can think of is how Midvalley can be here? Well, to answer your question, he's not. Like your friend Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Julius the Necromancer tried to bring him back for a comeback tour. Unlike Wolfwood he didn't completely succeed."

Jeremiah glanced at the priest. At the man that might as well be his reflection in the mirror. "Nicholas D. Wolfwood? It can't be. It can't be him. It can't be…"

Millie struggled to lift her head. "Mr… Mr…Mr. Priest?"

"How sweet. After so very long, you meet again. But we didn't call you all here for a family reunion." Midvalley said. "We're to here to honor a new performer on our stage, Miss Blayne the Steelclaw here. She needed a captive audience, and the Gung-Ho Guns provided. Now, if you will all be so kinds as to throw out your weapons?"

Schneider pulled back the hammers on his pistols. "Weapons down, now!"

Evans started the pile, throwing out his sword. Nikki followed, throwing out both Long Colts and her guitar. Vash threw out his silver Long Colt with Nikki's, then opened up his gun arm. With a grunt, he removed the machine gun from its fastenings and tossed it into the growing pile. Two loud **THUDS** echoed around the desert as Jeremiah and Wolfwood threw in their Cross Punishers, avoiding each other's glances. Finally, Calamity took off her coat and threw it in.

"Empty your pockets as well," Blayne said. "I've known your brother long enough to never trust a Shriver with anything, no matter how unassuming it might be."

Calamity nodded, tossing twenty odd silver disks into the pile. The wolves formed a circle around the weapons pile, snarling, spit flecking their teeth.

"Good, now that I have your attention."

* * *

Zarlina pushed open the door to the room she and Raifen were sharing. He had yet to tell her why he had left so quickly. He had yet to tell her much of anything, in fact. He had been silent on almost every issue.

Now she found him kneeling on the floor with two sheathed blades in front of him. He appeared to look up at her through his blindfold and smiled. "Oh good, you're here. I need a witness. After I do it, could you kill me cleanly? This sword," he tapped the sword farthest from him, "Should do it if you put some force behind it."

"Raifen, what are you talking about?"

"But, if you'll permit a dying man's last request? Don't use the sword, kiss me instead. To die with honor and love is all a man like me can hope for anymore." He smiled, then picked up the knife directly in front of him. He slowly unsheathed it as Zarlina walked unsteadily towards him.

"What… what are you saying?"

"This is all I can do. Otherwise, my clan will die with nothing." Raifen placed the tip of the knife against his abdomen and smiled. "Goodbye."

He began the cut across his abdomen, but encountered unexpected resistance. Very powerful unexpected resistance.

"What are you doing?" he shouted.

Zarlina had grabbed his arms and was pulling back as hard as she possible could.

"Don't you understand? I am nothing without my honor!"

"And I am nothing without you." Zarlina whispered.

Raifen let go of the knife with one hand and pushed her back against the dresser. "DAMN IT! I HAVE NOTHING TO LIVE FOR! YOU OF ALL PEOPLE SHOULD UNDERSTAND THIS!"

Zarlina sickly orange eyes dulled. "You're right. I would have, if you asked me years ago. Years ago I would've gladly helped send you on your way. Years ago, I had nothing to live for. I don't want to die now. I don't want a early end to my life, because my life isn't the horrible lonely tragedy it once was."

Raifen pressed the knife against his stomach again. "You've found something to live for? What could be so precious to you that you'd be willing to go through your torturous life? What could be worth your curse?"

Zarlina was silent for a moment, then whispered, "You."

"What did you say?"

"You. You are worth it. I live and kept on living for you. I obeyed Knives, Legato, Martinez, and the rest only because of you. I never wanted revenge, but I convinced myself that I did, so I'd have a reason to join them with you. I live only for you, Raifen. Please… live for me." She began to cry, her tears hitting the floorboards and burning through them like acid. "Please, if you have nothing else to live for, live for me."

Silence. Silence through the room, silence through the building, silence through the town, silence ran through the entire world for these two, cursed from birth to loneliness. Last of their kind or untouchable, they had no one to cling to.

* * *

"I'm sure many of you have questions," Blayne began. "Who are all these people? Why are they here to witness this? Shouldn't this be a family affair?"

"Why are you such a sadistic bitch?" Evans muttered.

Blayne stopped her pacing and glanced up at Evans. "I heard that Cavalryman. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Evans Braxler, the only person here without any reason at all. He has no relation to anyone of importance, nor is there any lesson Knives particularly wishes him to learn."

Blayne turned to face Evans, giving her full glare. Her glance touched something primitive in most men, a fear of fangs and claws in the dark. Whether Evans felt this or not could never be really known. He simply watched her behind his sunglasses. "You know, it was your kind that murdered my family in front of me. It was the Cavalry that strung up my parents and slaughtered them. I would have been next, but the wolves saved me." She bent down and scratched a wolf behind the ears. "These wolves have more compassion and love then any soldier could ever possibly have. They are worthy of saving, unlike humanity."

"Your point?" Evans asked.

"My point?" Blayne said quietly. "My point is that the next time any of you try to share a thought with all of us with out my permission, I'm going to start cutting." She flicked one of her blade fans open and smiled. "But, as I was saying before the Cavalryman interrupted me, you might be wondering who everyone is. So I thought I'd introduce you all to each other. First of all, Miss Clarissa Shriver." She pointed to Calamity. "Or would you rather I call you Calamity?"

Calamity breathed in heavily. _Not more death. Please, no more killing._

"You might recognize Miss Shriver, Vash, you bumped into her not long ago. Left a gift with her that she apparently still has. Your sunglasses. But that's not why she's here. She's here because apparently there is no other way to teach her to perform the task she was born for. If her own brother can't convince her of her destiny, then we must force her into it."

She moved her fan slowly to Jeremiah. "Jeremiah Thomas Wolfwood, known to some as Chapel the Born-Again. Glad to see you've followed in your father's footsteps, even without him there. Are fathers really that important to raising a child right?" Blayne covered her face with the fan, then sliced it down to the side. "I wouldn't know."

"Next up, how about Nikki Saverem Stryfe? There are many names for you, Miss Stryfe. Spider-fly, half-breed, freak of nature. But I prefer abomination. It has such a beautiful ring to it, doesn't it? You're an abomination in the eyes of nature, and your parents won't even tell you why. How very very sad." She shook her head. Behind her Schneider laughed. Midvalley remained silent. As the suns set, his outline grew clearer and clearer. One could almost see the pink of his shirt now.

"You four, however, are merely spectators. Audience members. Yours is to only watch quietly and learn." Blayne backed up to the posts, standing directly in front of Schneider. "It's these two, as well as the two standing up on the dune that I'm interested in. They will be my subject, my medium."

Blayne stepped behind Schneider and stuck one of her blade-fans into her corset. "The first of my subjects is Miss Millie Thompson." She grabbed Millie's chin and forced her to look at Vash and Wolfwood. "Yes, Miss. She never married. Never loved again after you left her, Father Wolfwood. I want you to look at each other. It's been so long, you deserve a good, long, look. Look at the mysterious preacher in black, Miss Thompson. Is he the man you remember him to be?"

Millie's breathed softly, not able to find the words. Jeremiah's fists clenched.

"He is, though he may not look it. He's exactly the man you remember, because he didn't really change. He was brought back thinking he was the same man he was twenty- one years ago. You, on the other hand, have changed, and more than just physically. Do you still want the man you wanted as a foolish child? Can you overlook his dark past, and it is dark, now that you're older and wiser? Are still as naïve as to think there is light in this tortured soul, so heavy with sin? It doesn't matter why he killed, he's still a murder."

Wolfwood lit a cigarette. His nerves couldn't take this any longer. Not without a crutch.

"Look at her Wolfwood, don't waste time lighting your cigarettes. Look at her! Is she still the woman you loved? While we're on the subject, look at your son. He's right over there. The son she raised alone, with no father to help. Sure, her friends helped, her family helped, but there's only so much they can do. She had to grow up to raise the fine young man over there. Grow up faster than she should have, given her childish outlook. If only you had been there… would Jeremiah have turned out differently? I'd ask him, but I think Jeremiah is preoccupied at the moment. I really do wonder how he feels… The father that was never there."

Wolfwood flicked the cigarette down to the sand and stamped it out.

"You want to say something, Father Wolfwood?"

Wolfwood nodded. "I know why you're doing this. You want to hurt Vash. Knives wants him to experience eternal suffering for his betrayal. Fine, be that way. If you have to hurt Vash, kill me instead. Believe me, it'll hurt him just as much as if you killed Millie. I can't bear the thought of losing her. Kill me instead."

Tears began to form in Millie's eyes. "Mr. Priest, you're being selfish! I already lost you! Don't make me lose you again!"

Wolfwood stared at his shoes. "I know I am, big girl. I know I am."

Midvalley laughed. "I'm very sorry Wolfwood, but you don't get to recluse yourself from suffering. You betrayed the master as well. In fact, if memory serves, you've done more betrayal in your time then any other man here. Look at your father, Jeremiah. Judas Iscariot."

No one spoke. Evans remained a statue, the only one without emotion. Looks of abject despair and terror had stricken the faces of all the others. Blayne smirked slightly, while Schneider grinned insanely. Midvalley's face could not be seen, but the tone of his voice indicated faint amusement in this.

Blayne moved to the other pillar and used her blade-fan to lifted up Meryl's face. "Now, Miss Meryl Stryfe. Again, notice the miss. Also never married, but the father of her child wasn't dead, was he? Was he, Vash the Stampede?"

Vash shook his head slowly.

"So why no wedding rings, I wonder? Why no happy church bells ringing? I assume you liked each other enough. You created that abomination over there. Were you afraid to sanctify something you knew to be wrong? The creation of that thing? I have my own theory on the subject, would you like to hear it?"

Silence.

"I'd like to hear, Miss Bluesummers," Schneider said, giggling.

"Very well Schneider, I'll show you my theory. It has to do with this simple question, why would a superior being such as Vash stoop to the level of this inferior creature? What would drive him to be with this lowly parasite? Hm?"

"What did you call my mother?" Nikki shouted.

Blayne's eyes narrowed. Her hands cut swiftly through the air and strands of Meryl's black hair fluttered down. "I told you all to be quiet. Your parents never told you what you were, perhaps out of pity for you, but I hold no such emotions. Your father is a Plant, your mother is a human. Therefore, you are a half-Plant, half-human. A disgusting little genetic mix-up that should never have existed. You dirty the superiority of the Plants merely be living."

Nikki's knees gave out. Jeremiah, too preoccupied with his own rage, barely noticed. Evans and Calamity silently slipped their arms under her shoulders and helped her up.

Blayne shrugged, then turned her attention back to Vash and Meryl. "See? It's an imperfect union. It's why Vash ran away. He slept with you out of sympathy, too nice a person to let your foolish love go unreturned. Then, some odd years later, he realizes that he actually might have to stay with you for the rest of his life, and he leaves. It explains it all, doesn't it? I mean, how could he love something like you? Look at you!"

She brushed back Meryl's hair with a closed fan. "Look at what time has done Vash! Her skin has lost its luster, her breasts are beginning to sag, and no matter how much she tries to hide it, her hair is turning gray. True, she might have been attractive once, but time is unkind to us humans."

She turned back towards Vash. "Now, compare to you! Still as beautiful as the day you met her, I'll wager! Your hair does not change to a dull gray but to a mysterious, dark black! Yours is an eternal beauty! And how could an eternal beauty such as yours ever desire this fading light?"

Blayne swooped around the pole and flicked open her blade-fan. She pressed it against Meryl's throat. "So tell her Vash. Tell her why you left. Tell her, how you really honestly feel."

"…Stop. Please, stop this."

Blayne pressed the slightly deeper into Meryl's throat. "Tell her Vash. I don't have all day."

Tears began to roll down Vash's face. "You want the truth?"

Blayne nodded.

"The truth is that she's the most beautiful thing in this dry world! And… and… and I left her because I was afraid."

Midvalley's ever strengthening form stepped forward as the last rays of the double suns began their course out of the world. "So, the Humanoid Typhoon was afraid? What were you afraid of?"

"I was afraid that… that she couldn't accept me as unchanging. That she wouldn't be able to live with a man who couldn't grow old with her. A man that might outlive her by God knows how long? I was afraid… I was afraid of outliving her." Vash fell to his knees, sobbing.

Aside from Midvalley, Blayne, and Schneider, only two sets of dry eyes remained. Jeremiah was caught somewhere between despair and confusion, and his cybernetic eyes were incapable of crying. His tear ducts gone, all he could do was heave his shoulders and spit the tears out of his mouth. Evans had dropped his stoicism. He was angry. His fists were clenched to the point of white knuckles, his teeth grinding together.

Blayne shook her head. "Pathetic. Truly pathetic. You still deny your superiority. How sad." She stepped out in front of the two posts holding Millie and Meryl and pulled out her other blade-fan. "Do you feel a sense of déjà vu, Vash the Stampede? You should. You faced a situation like this in LR, many years ago. You had to choose between killing my cousin or letting these two die. You had a choice then, and you chose the easiest path, the path that brought you the least amount of pain. You killed my cousin, because it was the least painful route you could take."

Blayne opened up both blade fans. "This time, you don't get to make that choice." She turned around and slashed Mille and Meryl across the face, leaving a straight diagonal cut. Everyone leapt forward, but the wolves attacked swarming them all. Not biting or tearing, just keeping everyone away. Keeping their master safe from harm.

"Now you all understand the pain that is survival! The pain that is life!" Blayne lifted the bloody fans into the air. The wind picked up and seemed to howl.

Evans reached out and grabbed a wolf by the throat. He twisted and it fell to the sands, limp. He rolled over and turned to Nikki, Calamity, and Jeremiah.

"I'm sorry!" He whispered.

Nikki kicked at a wolf and sent it flying back. "Sorry for what?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't stop it. I'm sorry I let it go this far. And I'm sorry I never showed you before!"

Evans reached up to his eyes, pulled off his sunglasses, and disappeared.

* * *

The knife fell to floor of the room. Raifen buried his head in his hands. "How could, how could I have been so blind? I thought I saw more than others…"

Zarlina dried her eyes, and crawled over to him. She threw her arms around him and he returned the embrace, his gloved hand stroking the back of her head. There would always be that glove, that sleeve, that shirt there. They knew that, but they weren't about to say it. Sometimes you just have to shut the hell up and enjoy the moment.

"What have we done?" Raifen said, "What have we helped bring about?"

Zarlina looked up at him. "We can fix it, right? That's what humans can do, fix their mistakes."

Raifen shook his head.

Zarlina nodded. "You're right. We can't stop either of them. They'd just kill us."

Raifen gently pushed Zarlina away and stood up. "We can't stop Knives and Danil, but there is someone who can." He offered his hand out to her.

She took it and pulled herself up. "The Stampede?" 

Raifen nodded. "I know where he should be. Are you up for the journey, Zarlina the Ashenfall?"

Zarlina nodded, her orange eyes looking bright for the first time in many, many years. "If you're with me, Raifen the Shadow."

* * *

Schneider's scream was the first indication Blayne had that things were going wrong. She whirled around to see Evans somehow standing behind the man, hat covering his eyes, crushing Schneider's hands. Schneider dropped the guns and took a step forward, when Evans grabbed his arm.

"You aren't running away!" he yelled. Evans put his foot onto the back of Schneider's leg and pushed forward while pulling back on the man's arms. There was a disgusting _CRACK_, and Schneider fell to the ground screaming. Evans shoved him towards the crater wall and turned to Blayne, still covering his eyes with his hat.

"Remember what you said? Back in Jenora? Well, this is me not holding back!"

Evans disappeared, only to reappear next to the weapons pile. He quickly grabbed his saber and flourished it to Blayne.

"Midvalley! Take care of him, if you'd be so kind!"

Midvalley began laughing. "I think not, little Blayne! This is your show after all. It's time for your solo!" He continued laughing as his outline faded from existence, the laughter fading with it.

Blayne growled, then moved into a fighting crouch, fans open. Evans shrugged and disappeared again. Before Blayne's heightened senses could find him, she felt his boot hit the back of her head in a spin kick. She fell into a roll and came up facing the Cavalry man, who was looking down at the sand. "How did you do that! My sense are above any humans, I couldn't see, hear, or smell you moving!"

Evans chuckled and drew in the sand with his sword.

"At least look at me, damn it!"

Evans shook his head, then lashed out with his sword. Blayne parried and brought the other fan around for a slash across the face, but Evans had disappeared again. This time when he reappeared he slashed her across the shoulder. Blayne spun around, ignoring the pain, and they began the dance again.

Up on the lip, Nikki pushed off a wolf that had just bitten her. Calamity reached out and sent a shock through it, keeping it down.

"NIKKI!" Vash called.

Nikki looked towards her father. "What?"

"The pain! Concentrate on the pain! It's the only way to see him!"

Down in the crater, Evans had Blayne at his sword point. He kicked her in the stomach and she flew back against the crater wall, next to a whimpering Schneider. He raised his head, finally letting all see his eyes. One eye was narrow, slightly tapered at the edge, and a deep brown in color. A normal eye. The other eye was anything but. Larger than the other eye, it was disgusting, red, and reptilian. An eye that only a mother could love. Its sideways pupil stared angrily at the two, next to the normal brown eye.

Schneider pulled himself up to a sitting position. "You're just like us, aren't you? You're a-_hurk_!" Evans had disappeared while he was talking, only to reappear holding Schneider by the collar. He had run his sword through Schneider's chest before he even noticed. The Speedfreak, the one who could keep pace with a Sandsteamer, had finally found someone quicker.

Evans turned his attention to Blayne, sitting several yarz away. She spat blood at him. "Kill me then. Let me die in my Master's service."

Evans shrugged and disappeared again. But not to Nikki. She had done what her father had said, she had concentrated on the pain of the wolf bite. And all had become clear to her. She saw when Evans move when no one else could, saw through his illusion.

Evans dashed towards Blayne, sword ready for another kill. Nikki kicked off the two wolves on her, and jumped towards Evans, tackling him to the ground. They rolled in the sand for a few seconds, when Evans, always the superior hand-to-hand combatant, came up on top. He had dropped his sword, but had instead fished out his boot knife. His cypress handled, intricately carved boot knife. He held it over Nikki's throat, only her hands pushing back were stopping him. "Never get in my way, sweetheart," Evans said, forcing the knife down further.

Vash pushed aside the wolf and stared at Evans, kneeling over his daughter, knife in hand. He didn't notice the wolf beginning to gnaw on his mechanical arm, nor did he notice when Wolfwood kicked it off. All he saw was the Cavalryman, the man who, as Blayne said had no right to be here, with a knife over Nikki's throat.

"This isn't you, Evans!" Nikki yelled. "This isn't the man who jumped onto a moving train to save it! This isn't the man who fought for a people who hated him! Look at it! Look at that knife! Whoever gave you that damn thing in Lasuken gave it to you because you weren't like the ones who slaughtered them! THIS ISN'T YOU EVANS!"

Evans grunted and looked at the knife. The carvings drew him in, seemed to become alive. The animals, the plants, everything on the knife was moving, was speaking, was protesting. A bright flash and the knife shattered, falling to the ground beside Nikki.

Blayne looked around as Evans stood up trembling. **We must leave!** A stampede of paws and Blayne and her wolves had vanished into the night.

Evans didn't noticed any of this. He stood up, staring at the broken hilt in his left hand. He dropped the hilt and stumbled backwards, clutching at his head.

"SHUT UP, SHUT UP! Get out of my head! They aren't garbage! And _bushido_ can screw itself for all I care!" Evans fell to his knees, both his human and demon's eyes blinking sadly. Then they rolled back into his head and he collapsed on the desert sands, unconscious.

The five moons watched over a sad scene that night, as a girl named after a disaster cut the ropes of two bleeding women, who fell into the arms of two crying men. A half-breed stared at the unconscious form of a demon, and a priest's son could only stare, bewildered, at the man who claimed to be his father.

The same five moons watched over a spirit, who sat among the hills. A dark-haired, dark-skinned middle aged man, he watched sadly at the drama that had just unfolded. He shook his head. His last card had been played. With that knife gone, he could no longer affect anything that happened in this world.

He looked up at the sky pleadingly. Hundreds of years ago he had proposed Project SEEDS. Back when he was alive, back on Earth. After death, he had hung on, desperate to help the struggling race on their new home.

"This can't be the planet's will?" He asked the sky. "This can't be nature's will, this can't be your will, can it? Are we really meant to die?"

Over at another dune, the five moons shined their light down on some very different figures. A vampire, a demon, and a Plant congregated, watching and waiting. The Plant stuck his hands into the pockets of the gray duster he had over his plug-suit. The vampire pulled out a pocket watch and flipped it open.

Saxophone music filled the air, coming closer and closer to where the three men were standing. The vampire snapped the watch shut.

"A splendid performance, Midvalley," Legato said.

"Just following your formula," Midvalley said. "A drama is always better with a twist."

Martinez chuckled. "And what a twist it was. Blayne never knew what hit her."

Knives remained silent. He brought his hand out of his pockets and rested his chin on them, looking out into the night.

Martinez looked at his watch again. "It's time," he said. Legato nodded, then walked off into the night with Martinez, Midvalley's saxophone playing following them.

Knives stared out into the distance. He stood up and looked at the five moons above him. "Now do you finally understand, brother? Now after seeing one of their worthless ilk attack your own flesh and blood? Now do you finally see the humans… as the cancer they are?"

* * *

Jeremiah: They came into our lives without us knowing. They fell into a war that wasn't really theirs to fight. One jumped into danger without looking, the other exploded onto the scene in a fireball of glory. But who are they? How well can we say that we really know them? Next Chapter: The Demon and the Disaster.


	20. The Demon and the Disaster

Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun, any of the characters, or the Hope Diamond. I would like to though.

Yes, I'm back from my schoolwork, with a vengance.

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Blayne slumped against a rock, breathing heavily. A wolf walked up to her and began to lick her wounds, then nuzzled her arm. Absentmindedly, she began to pet the wolf while staring up at the moons, focusing on the crater that marked the fifth moon like a scar.

She smelled the man approaching before she heard him, and heard him before she saw him.

"Hiya Blayne," Johnny said as he stepped out of the shadows and slumped down beside her. "Meeting point fifteen, right? When it's all said and done with, we show up at meeting point fifteen." He pointed over his shoulder. "Right over there."

Blayne didn't respond, just continued to pet the wolf. Eventually she turned to Johnny. "I failed. I failed him… the master. What will he do to me?"

Johnny shrugged. "What does he normally do for failure? I failed as well… but I learned something _very_ interesting-"

Blayne's hand slapped over Johnny's mouth. "Shhh… I hear something."

Johnny took her hand off his mouth. "Polster and Callox?"

Blayne nodded slowly. "And… someone else. Two other people. Female. They're… son of a bitch..."

Johnny stood up and dusted off his jeans. "I told you I learned something interesting."

* * *

Calamity leaned against the window and stared out at the passing scenery. Quiet ruled the bus. This was mostly because everyone was asleep, but even if everyone had been awake, Calamity was willing to bet a fistful of double dollars that the bus would be still be quiet.

They hadn't said much before she had flagged down the bus, they hadn't said much as Meryl and Millie had their cuts bandaged up, and they hadn't said much paying the fare to get wherever the hell it was they were going now. Calamity couldn't really blame them for their silence. _After all,_ she thought, _what do you say after something like that? "Hi, look you all thought I was dead" doesn't quite cut it. Neither does "Ohhhh, so you're my father. I wondered where the inability to grow a beard came from." I suppose… that there's nothing you can say after that._ Calamity sighed, leaned against the window, and closed her eyes.

Meryl leaned against Vash and tried to sleep. She shifted her position so she was resting more comfortably. It was then that she noticed that Vash wasn't asleep, wasn't even trying to sleep. She stared up at his face, eyes wide open and looking at the other side of the bus. He caught her gaze and pointed to the seat diagonally across from them.

Meryl's gaze followed his finger to their daughter. Nikki sat at the edge of the seat, Evans head in her lap, the rest of his body lying on the seat. His eyes were closed, but the Demon's Eye could still not be completely hidden merely by closing it. Nikki's eyes were closed as well, and her chest lifted up and down slowly as she wandered in dreams.

Millie slept fitfully, having the dream she had been having off and on ever since Jeremiah was born. Jeremiah would ask where his daddy was, and Millie would smile and take him to the church, where Wolfwood would be preaching the mass that day. There they'd find Wolfwood's body, kneeling in front of the altar, still carrying his cross. And Jeremiah would say that it was good that his daddy was dead, because he didn't like him anyway. At that point, Millie would wake up in a cold sweat and roll over to tell Wolfwood about the nightmare. Then she would remember that he wasn't there anymore, that he had never been there. Whenever she had that dream, she wouldn't be able to sleep for the rest of the night.

Wolfwood, of course knew none of this. He could hear her mumbling in her sleep, could feel her shivering faintly in some fear, and he mentally kicked himself for being so weak that he left her alone. Quietly as he could, Wolfwood slipped out from the seat and walked back to the bathroom, nodding to Vash as he passed.

Jeremiah stood with his hands in his pockets, waiting for the bathroom to become available. He lightly kicked at an open seat and frowned. What was it Danil had said? "It's in your blood, Jeremiah. Wolfwood was a killer, and so are you." It was always difficult to tell when Father Danil was lying or telling the truth, he had turned out to be right about many things. Which story about his father was right? The killer or the hero? The sinner or the saint?

Wolfwood walked up next to Jeremiah and stared at the bathroom door. The two men slowly turned to each other, distrust written on their faces.

* * *

Out in the distance, a wolf howled at the three full moons overhead. Polster jumped and glanced around him.

"Easy brother, easy. Not every wolf belongs to Blayne."

Polster nodded, but continued to glance around, staring up at the canyon walls. Sister Amy stood next to him and squeezed his hand. Of the four of them, Amy and Polster had never liked closed in spaces.

Sister Mary saw the two shivering slightly. "Don't worry, Father Danil will be here soon, then we'll all be out of Knives reach."

Callox nodded. "Good, I'm sick of working under that crazy Plant. There's nothing more we can learn. They'll all be dead soon anyway."

This seemed to calm their nervous siblings, until another wolf howled. Amy gritted her teeth and muttered. "Did we have to come and meet you? Why couldn't you have been picked up by yourself?"

"Because the rest of the Flock wouldn't know us from Adam," Polster said. "Now don't worry sister, Callox is right. It's not necessarily one of Blayne's pack. You don't need to worry."

Amy nodded, but slowly pulled her pistol out anyway. A knife hurtled through the darkness and hit the gun, knocking it out of her hand.

"You can start worrying now, little girl."

The quads looked out into the darkness to see the yellow of eyes of a wolf and the laughing hazel eyes of a murderer stare at them. Behind them, a massive pack of wolves had gathered, snarling and howling.

In danger, humans tend to fall back on instinct. In this case, all four of the Gemini had the same instinct. Run.

Thousands of copies of Polster, Callox, Sister Amy, and Sister Mary sprang towards Johnny and Blayne, who stood still as the duplicates ran through them. After the flow of duplicates had finally ceased, not a soul stood in the canyon, save Johnny, Blayne, and the wolves.

"Should we go after them?" Johnny asked.

A voice rang through their heads. ** No. Not yet.**

**Why not sir?** Blayne asked.

**Because the Master hates traitors. Because he wants something special for them. Because he wants to test their faith.**

* * *

The Gemini ducked through the network of canyons, desperately searching for a way out before Johnny and Blayne caught up with them.

**Do you really think you can escape?**

The four Gemini skidded to a halt, terror in their eyes.

**You four cannot escape alone. You're outnumbered, outgunned, why not just give up? End the pain early**

Callox summoned up his courage and spat on the ground. "We're not outnumbered." Copies of him started running out. The other three took hear in their brother's courage and started to duplicate themselves as well.

"The Gemini are never outnumbered!"

Legato's low chuckle rang through their minds, destroying any false bravado they might have built up. ** Don't be ridiculous. Smoke and light, nothing more. If I wanted to, I could kill all four of you before your hands even started to move.**

"Then why don't you?" Sister Amy shouted.

A shadow unfolded itself from the canyon wall. Martinez stood perpendicular to the cliff face and stared down at the crowd of Gemini below him. "Because the decision is not ours to make."

"K-K-Knives?" Polster stammered.

Martinez smiled, showing his fangs. He nodded slowly.

The four began to edge away slowly, scattering the duplicates to every corner as a distraction. They broke off from the crowd and make a rush for one of the two branching paths of the canyon. Saxophone music rang though out the canyon and the quads flew backwards.

"Wrong stage my friends. Your performance is the other way." Midvalley's transparent form smiled at the four, and raised the saxophone closer to its mouth.

Polster pushed himself up and wiped some blood from his lip. "Now what?" he asked.

"Now… you run." Martinez said.

The quads stared up at the grinning vampire, then bolted down the other branching path, away from the demons, ghosts, and monsters.

**Release the wolves.**

* * *

The quads raced through the canyon, the snarls and growls of Blayne's pack not far behind them. Sister Mary tripped over a rock and fell. Polster hung back, helped her up, threw her arm over his shoulder and helped support her as they continued to run.

"We can make it, we can make it, we can make it." Callox repeated over and over.

Sister Amy reached into a pocket on her black coat and pulled out a small glowing orb. "Father Danil said that when this thing started to glow red, it means he's come to pick us up. We just have to survive until it turns red!"

Callox looked behind him. "Hurry! We can duck into a cave somewhere and wait it out!"

Sister Mary looked at Callox critically. "What cave? Where can we hide from them? They're wolves, Callox, wolves! They'll smell us wherever we go!"

"All we can do is run, my siblings." Sister Amy said. "Run, and hope God offers us some form of deliverance."

* * *

Nikki shifted her weight and felt something fall against her leg. She opened her eyes and saw that Evans' dog tags had fallen out of his shirt. She stretched out her hand and held them up.

Lieutenant Evans Braxler

Height: 6'2"

Weight: 175 lbs

Medical Notes: Left eye is naturally larger and discolored from birth defect.

Nikki dropped the first tag and picked up the second one.

Family:

Father, General Phillip Braxler, February City Garrison

Sister, Lelia Woodenhouse Harker, St. Mary's Clinic, New Seattle

Nikki dropped the dog tags and drifted off to sleep. Her last thoughts before Morpheus took her were "New Seattle? We can take him to his sister then."

* * *

Polster slipped through the crack and motioned his siblings to follow. Callox gave Sister Mary to Amy to support. Callox and Polster ran behind a boulder resting by the slim passage to the main canyon branch and threw their weight against it. The boulder grinded against the rock and slowly rolled in front of the passage. Polster and Callox sighed and slumped against it.

"Thank God. All we have to do now is climb out of the canyon."

"Oh really? To what purpose?"

A man with platinum-blonde hair stepped out of the shadows. He had his hands stuck in the pockets of his gray duster, which covered a black and red plug suit. The holster at his hip was empty.

"We… we will be saved," Sister Mary whispered.

Knives grinned. "I'm going to assume you don't mean God. And why would Father Danil save you? You're useless to him now. The black widow does not save the wolf spider. The wolf spider's death will show the black widow where the predators are, so the black widow may stay away, thus surviving that much longer."

"It doesn't matter whether we're useless to him or not. He'll save us because it's the right thing to do. The moral thing to do."

Knives laughed. "The moral thing to do? The _moral_ thing to do? You're sinners. Not only that, you're the worst type of sinners."

The Gemini looked at him questioningly.

Knives shook his head. "Evidently you don't know your Dante. Cocytus, the frozen lake at the bottom of Hell, is reserved solely for traitors and mutineers."

Sister Amy took out the glowing orb and held it in her hands. "When it's red, we'll be saved. Everything we did, we did for God. God won't forsake us."

Knives shook his head. He walked over to Sister Amy and snatched the globe from her hands. He smirked. "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." He took the globe in both hand and pried it open, revealing nothing more than a well-set up light bulb. An illusion, nothing more. "You've been forsaken."

Polster started laughing. "Where's your gun, Knives? Where is the tool you use to call up the so-called "Angel Arm"?

Knives smiled. "It was shooting off center. I gave to Lorand the Gearhead to tune up when I left."

Polster and Callox's hands started moving towards their Heatwaves. Sister Mary and Sister Amy began to slowly reach for their laser pistols. "So you're defenseless?" Sister Mary said.

Knives' eyes narrowed. "Am I?" His right hand opened up and a metal cylinder shot out of it, flipping around to land on top of Knives' arm. He grabbed the trigger and squeezed.

The sound of gunfire rang through the canyon. The wolves stopped running, and took up a howl.

* * *

Martinez grunted and threw the boulder behind him. The wolves scattered as the boulder crashed into the canyon walls.

Knives stood among the four bodies, smoke rising from his right arm. He turned to the remaining Gung-Ho Guns and shrugged. "I believe this is the first time Danil and I have actively agreed on something. These four had to die."

Martinez nodded, then stepped aside to let Legato through. Midvalley had already strolled through while Martinez was lifting the boulder. Legato pulled a sandwich out of his coat and began to nibble on it.

Johnny and Blayne entered behind them and stood to the side, looking at the bodies.

"Good work finding the traitors," Legato said. "Very good work indeed."

Johnny and Blayne bowed.

"However… that does not change the fact that you failed."

Johnny and Blayne nodded.

Knives turned to Blayne. "We expect more from both of you, but especially you Blayne. I don't think you've lived up to your full potential."

"What does that mean, Master?"

Martinez grinned. Knives flexed his right hand. Legato swallowed the last of the sandwich and began to slowly lick the fingers of his left hand.

"Do understand, though, that I cannot wave the punishment for failure."

Johnny and Blayne nodded. They turned to face each other, Blayne pulling a blade fan from her tattered corset and Johnny flipping a knife out of his poncho.

Johnny shrugged. "No hard feelings, eh?"

* * *

Wolfwood knew Millie was having some sort of nightmare, but he didn't want to wake her. He had heard somewhere that waking someone in middle of the nightmare was bad for them.

The gray-haired priest sighed and reached for a cigarette. He needed it after that uncomfortable stare down with Jeremiah in front of the bathroom. His hand stopped halfway to his pocket. Smoking would probably wake Millie up. Wolfwood sighed again and looked across the aisle. Evans head still rested in Nikki's lap, but Nikki herself had fallen asleep.

_Damn, never thought I'd see him again. I had all but forgotten about him. I guess all of us all but forgot him._

Wolfwood leaned back into the chair, and remembered.

* * *

Twenty-three years ago

The lightning flashed. Then silence. Thunder crashed. Then silence. Then, a woman's scream pierced the night, and all future thunder was drowned out.

Martinez chuckled, then sipped at his drink. "Sounds painful."

Legato shrugged and continued to eat his steak. "I wouldn't know. I've never given birth, and I never intend to have a child."

"What, the thought of fatherhood doesn't appeal to you?"

Legato shook his head. "No, it's just that I have to kill all of them one day. I see no reason to make my job harder by bringing another into the world."

Wolfwood shifted in his chair. He hated hanging around up here, but Chapel the Evergreen insisted that he at least try to spend some time with the Gung-Ho Guns every once in a while.

"After all," he had said, "we're traitors. And nobody trusts a traitor."

"Where's Rai-Dei?" Wolfwood asked.

Midvalley laughed. "As far away from Dominique as he can get, I imagine. I never saw that one coming, wonder how much sake it took?"

Martinez shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine Hornfreak."

Lightning flashed outside, briefly illuminating the room. Legato sat at a table, a steak in front of him and a fork and knife in each hand. He was eating slowly, methodically, enjoying every bite. Occasionally he'd sip from a glass of red wine on his right. Across from him sat Wolfwood, smoking silently. A full ash tray sat in front of him, and he was a quarter of the way through a second one.

Behind Wolfwood a full bar was laid out. Midvalley sat on a couch, tapping his fingers to some rhythm only he could hear in his head. Maybe he was composing something new for a jam session, maybe he was thinking of new ways to kill with his music. Only he could say for sure.

Martinez stood in front of him, a glass of reddish-brown liquid in his hand. When he was finished with the glass, he reached for two bottles and mixed himself another drink. One bottle read Wild Turkey. The other one was devoid of any marking, save a large red drop on the front.

Midvalley laughed. "A lot, that's my guess. I don't understand why we didn't abort it in the first place."

Martinez took a drink from his glass. "Not an option." he said. "The Demon's Eye organ is dependent on the-"

"Hold it." Midvalley said. "Is this going to involve a complicated explanation of the unique biology of the Demon's Eye and the genetic alterations involved to make it?"

Martinez nodded.

"I don't really care then. The practical upshot is that we couldn't abort because it would mess up her powers, right?"

Martinez took another sip from his drink. "Got it in one."

"The screaming's stopped." Wolfwood mumbled.

Legato ate the last of his steak and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "So it has. Go see what's going on, won't you Chapel?"

Wolfwood stabbed his cigarette into the ashtray and stood up. He pocketed his cigarettes and left, all to glad to leave his psychotic bosses.

* * *

Wolfwood descended the staircase to find his mentor at a sink washing his hands.

"It's over." Chapel the Evergreen said.

"Where's Dominique?" Wolfwood asked.

Chapel pointed to a closed door. "In there, presumably trying to sleep."

"The kid's with her?"

Chapel laughed. "The kid? Are you joking? I don't think Dominique could care less about what happens to him. He's over there."

Wolfwood walked up to the counter. A baby, covered in a blanket, lay in a small bed, sleeping. Wolfwood could see that the left eye was larger than the other one. He was almost afraid of what he'd see if it opened. The Demon's Eye had mutated again.

"I'll take care of the kid," Wolfwood said.

Chapel reached for a towel and started drying his hands. "I thought you'd say that. Don't let the kids get to you, Wolfwood. It's just another decision you're going to have to make at some point. A decision you won't have time to make."

Chapel turned around to find that his student had already left. He shrugged, then went upstairs to have a drink.

* * *

Wolfwood carried the baby down the steps and walked to the main door of the crashed ship. A voice from the shadows stopped him.

"Is that my child?"

Rai-Dei stepped from the darkness, straw clenched between his teeth. He looked down at the bundle Wolfwood was carrying and scoffed. "Weak. He'll never amount to anything. Do with him what you wish."

"He's your son. Don't you care about him at all?"

"He won't help me achieve spiritual awareness. I don't really care what happens to him," Rai-Dei said as he left back into the ship.

"Son of a…" Wolfwood whispered. "You'll get yours one day, Rai-Dei. And if God likes me at all… I'll give it to you."

* * *

Sister Analie, head of the December Orphanage, was sleeping soundly in the hotel room when a loud knocking woke her up. Muttering quietly to herself, she got out of bed and stumbled over to the door. She opened to find a tall shadow blocking the light from the hallway.

"Father Wolfwood?"

Wolfwood nodded, then handed her small bundle. "I've got another orphan for you to take back to December."

Sister Analie unwrapped the blanket and stared down at the green-haired sleeping infant. "Father, this a new-born. Are you sure he's an orphan?"

Wolfwood nodded. "He might as well, he was dead to his parents before they were born." He turned around to leave, but Sister Analie stopped him.

"What's his name Father?"

Wolfwood shrugged. "I don't know. Why don't you come up with one?" He turned down the hall and left into the night.

Sister Analie closed the door and looked down at the sleeping child. "Mmmm, you're a strong one. My brother was a strong one, before he died. What if I name you after him, eh? What if I name you Evans?"

* * *

Twenty-three years ago, Wolfwood had saved that kid. Now, not five hours ago, Evans had saved him.

"But at what cost?" Wolfwood said. "What's rattling around in your skull? What do you see when you use the Demon's Eye?"

* * *

Jeremiah stirred slightly, awake, but keeping his eyes closed. Eventually he knew he wasn't going to get back to sleep and slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Calamity, staring out the window.

"We there yet?" he mumbled. He was cramped up all over. Men his height should not sleep on bus seats.

"Soon," Calamity said. "Bus driver said we should be there in about fifteen minutes."

"Fantastic." He stretched his neck, trying to work out a knot. "Sleep well?"

Calamity shrugged. "Had a couple of bad dreams. Nothing major."

"Wolves? 'Cause that's what I dreamed of. Lots of wolves."

She shook her head. "No, I dreamed of those guys in black on the Sandsteamer. The Flock. Millions of 'em. A never ending stream of black-clad killers, purging the land of something."

"It's not like there's that many of 'em. Maybe two hundred at the most. And not all of them are fighters," Wolfwood said.

Jeremiah jumped. _What the? He's awake?_ He glanced across the aisle at his father. "Maybe that's how it was when you were with them, but things have changed since then. There's more. A _lot_ more."

Wolfwood shrugged. "What could possibly drive that many people to listen to Danil's murderous sermon?"

"The Neon War."

"What?"

"The Neon War, you idiot.

Wolfwood turned to face Jeremiah. "I'm sorry, I'm not quite up on current events, mind explaining it to me?"

"Twelve years ago, some nutcase down in southern Arkansas decides that he wants to run the entire planet. Thing is, the bastard's got the manpower and the weaponry to actually pull it off!. War breaks out, not the fighting that's always plagued this place, actual freakin' war! Towns are burned, cities razed, people killed, entire lives destroyed!" Jeremiah was starting to get worked up. "How hard do you think it was for a man like Danil to come in and pick up the broken pieces. Fashion himself an army from the disenfranchised, the homeless, those who had seen what their fellow man could do to each other and wanted all the evil gone? How easy do think it was for him?!"

"I wouldn't know, I wasn't freaking there! I quit a long time ago!"

"Damn right you weren't there! You've never been there! You weren't there for you friends, you weren't there for mom, and you were never there for me!" Jeremiah stood up, reached forward and grabbed his father by the lapels.

At the same time, Wolfwood stood up and grabbed his son by the lapels. They both pulled hard and ended up inches away from each other.

"Sorry about being there, but I WAS DEAD AT THE TIME! A little hard to look after your loved ones from the damn grave!"

"Stop it! Stop fighting, please!" Millie shouted. She stood up and tried to pry the two apart, but as strong as she was, she wasn't strong enough to separate the two.

Vash and Meryl sprang up and tried to pull the pair apart. Jeremiah and Wolfwood's shouting had steadily crescendoed, drowning everything on the bus, including the complaints of the other passengers. Nikki stood up, placed Evans head on the seat and got behind her mother in trying to pull Wolfwood back.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU JOINED UP WITH DANIL!"

"OH LIKE YOU DIDN'T! AND IT'S NOT LIKE YOU WERE HERE TO STOP ME!

The bus slowed to a stop and the driver turned around. "HEY! IF YOU CAN'T SHUT THOSE TWO UP, I'M DROPPING YOU ALL!"

Calamity vaulted over the seat in front of her and landed in the aisle behind Jeremiah. She sprinted up to the bus driver, pulling a wad of cash from one of her pockets. She slapped it into the driver's hand. "Here. Happy? Just stand the noise for a little while longer. In fact." She reached into another pocket and pulled out another pile of cash. "We weren't ever here. Got it?"

The driver nodded, and turned back to the steering wheel. Calamity sighed and turned around, only to meet Jeremiah's accusing gaze. "Where did that money come from, Calamity?" he said. "Don't recall ever seeing it before. You stole it, didn't you? You stole the damn money, didn't you, you little whore of Babylon?"

Calamity reached out with her left hand and grabbed his shirt. She pulled him forward, then grabbed his face with her right hand. The anger on Jeremiah's face suddenly disappeared, replaced by nervousness. For a brief second, they were both outlined in blue light, and then Jeremiah lay on the floor, slightly twitching.

"Fuck you, Jeremiah. Fuck you."

As the bus started to pick up speed, Calamity dashed to the front and jumped out of the door, rolling as she hit the sand.

Jeremiah stood up and rushed to the door. "CALAMITY!"

But she was already gone. Disappeared into the sand, bound for the town, without friends. Alone again.

* * *

Nikki: She's been alone for so long, the woman named Clarissa Shriver. She forsook that name and took a new one, a name meaning a disaster, a catastrophe. A Calamity. She was alone for so very long… Can somebody live alone that long, with only themselves, only their own memories, to keep them company? Next chapter: The Outlaw.


	21. The Outlaw

Let's see… thanks to LordFrieza for the character of Elija L. Lockheart. That's a one time deal, so please don't ask me to put a character in, I have enough already.

Typical disclaimer: I don't own Trigun, It's owned by its creator and the companies that publish his work.

Also, from here on out _italics mean thought, inner monologue type stuff._ **Boldface means telepathic messages of some sort**.

A warning. This chapter is pretty dark. Darker than the last one even. Drug usage, for example, is involved. I still think it's within the PG-13 rating, but if you find something that bothers you, by all means stop reading and e-mail me. If you want I'll be more than happy to talk about it.

And finally, when you're done with this chapter, please head on over to my profile. Trust me, it'll be interesting.

* * *

It doesn't rain very often on Gunsmoke. Not too surprising, considering that the entire planet is nothing but a dry, desolate, God-forsaken desert.

When it does rain, however, it rains hard. Very hard. An unceasing, torrential downpour. On the horizon in the region of Neo-Washington, the storm clouds were gathering.

Lelia Harker looked out of the small window by her desk at the clinic and made a small noise of irritation. "Tch, rain. Of all the damn times, rain." She pushed back from the desk and went upstairs to the closet. Roger would want his coat for tonight's beat.

**KNOCK KNOCK**

"Damn, damn, damn!" Lelia threw the coat on the bed and rushed down to the door, expecting some sort of emergency. She threw it open to find two women standing there, bandages on their foreheads.

"Dr. Harker?" the shorter one asked.

"Yes, do you two need those cuts looked at?"

The shorter one's hand touched the bandage on her forehead. "No, no, we're fine. Are you sure you're Dr. Harker?"

Lelia nodded. "Of course I'm sure, and don't touch the bandage. If it's covering some type of cut, touching it will only make it worse."

The taller of the two woman leaned towards the short woman. "Of course she is Meryl. Can't you see the resemblance?"

Meryl turned to Millie and whispered in her ear. "Millie, there's no resemblance at all. Evans is white, this woman is black!"

Millie shook her head. "Not that kind of resemblance Meryl, I mean in mannerisms. They kind of act alike!"

Lelia raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Do you two know someone related to me? My father maybe?"

Meryl shook her head. "No… not your father."

Meryl and Millie stepped aside. Behind them, a woman in a red jacket and a guitar on her back was helping to support a Cavalry officer with a man dressed in a black coat. Behind them, two other men, also clad in black, were standing as far away from each other as they could while still remaining on the same street. Both were carrying huge crosses on their backs.

"Oh my god, Evans!"

* * *

Sister Mary slowly climbed up the small hill. She didn't know why Knives and the rest hadn't noticed that she was still alive, but she wasn't about to question what was surely a miracle from God.

As Mary pulled herself over the crest of the hill, she saw a figure in black sitting on a rock, eating a sandwich and occasionally taking a swig from a flask in his right hand. A fairly short man, with sandy-brown hair, he had leaned a one and a half foot silver crucifix on the rock next to him. His dress was all too familiar to Mary, who had grown up around priests.

"Are you… one of the Flock?" she managed to ask. The very act pained her, and she pushed against her wounds harder.

The sandy-haired man took another bite from his sandwich and turned towards her. Suddenly Mary realized that the man's face was also all too familiar to her.

"E-e-elija? What are you doing here?"

Elija swallowed his sandwich and took another swig from his flask. "Not much, Sister Mary. Just sitting here, eating my lunch, waiting for my ride to come."

"Ride?"

Elija nodded. "Joseph, Ophelia, and I have something important to look into. Possibly the most important thing we've ever been sent to retrieve."

Mary's face brightened. "They're coming? You… you can save me. You can heal me."

"Now why on earth would I do that? You're hardly worthy of God's grace. You weren't worthy from the day you were born. Besides that, you and your siblings are all condemned to the lowest circle of hell."

Mary pushed herself up against the rock, breathing heavily. She couldn't go any further. If Elija refused to help her, then this would be where she would die.

"Not that Dante crap again," she said.

"Again? Then I hardly need to tell you what type of sinner you are," Elija said, finishing his sandwich. He stood up and held out his right arm. He started a slow chant in Latin, gradually increasing in speed. Bright red light began to circle his hand, coalescing into a ball of bright fire floating above his palm.

"Elija, what are you doing?" Mary screamed.

"Sending you to where you belong. Don't worry, St. Peter will sort out the travel arrangements." Elija straightened his arm out and threw the ball of fire at Mary. "FACE THE FIREY JUDGEMENT OF HEAVEN AND DESPAIR!"

There was a shriek, an explosion, then a low sizzling sound. Elija reached down for his flask and took a swig.

"Pity," a voice said behind him.

Elija shrugged. "Not really. She wasn't worthy of God's light."

Joseph stepped next to him. "Oh no, I agree there. I mean it was a pity we had to go to the trouble. You can't even count on Knives to kill our own men correctly."

Elija chuckled.

A voice rang out in the air. "Are you two are finished your male bonding? We have to make it to New Seattle by nightfall!"

The two men looked at each other and shrugged. Elija bent down, picked up his crucifix, and followed Joseph to the long, black car where Ophelia was waiting for them.

"In the back," Joseph said.

Elija grunted as he slid his crucifix into the seat next to him. "Why do I have to sit in the back?" he asked.

"You never had any siblings, did you Elija?" Ophelia projected.

Elija shook his head.

"The youngest kid always sits in the back," Joseph said, starting the car.

* * *

Vash sat in the clinic waiting room, playing with a syringe. Meryl snatched it out of his hand. "Honey, quit that!" she whispered.

Vash grinned sheepishly and glanced over at his daughter. "How long has that streak of black been in her hair?" he asked.

"The black? It's gotten better. It was entirely black when she… when she blew up Jenora."

Vash's eyes widened. "Entirely black?"

Meryl nodded. "But it's been steadily growing more and more blonde. I have no idea what it means. Do you? I mean, you're starting to go black yourself." She brushed the large black streak in Vash's hair.

"I could've answered your question before. Now… I don't really know. Hey, Nick! No smoking in here!"

Wolfwood stopped the match right in front of the cigarette. "You're kidding me," he said. He turned to his right for confirmation, realized that Jeremiah was sitting there, then turned to the left.

Millie nodded. "No smoking in clinics like these. That's the rule."

"Damn." Wolfwood shook out the match and returned his cigarette to the pack. "Don't you want to know?" Wolfwood asked suddenly. "Don't you want to know how I'm alive? Why I'm alive?"

"There's a lot of questions that need to be answered," Meryl said. "I think we should wait until we're all present and accounted for before we start answering them."

They all looked up the stairs. Dr. Harker and her husband Roger had taken Evans upstairs to examine him.

"Like, why Evans doesn't look like his family?" Millie asked.

"I should think that was obvious Millie, he's adopted," Meryl responded.

"Oh, I wonder who his real parents were, to have that eye."

"Dominique the Cyclops and Rai-Dei the Blade," Wolfwood said.

"How do you know that?" Nikki asked. She had been sitting quietly in the corner, tuning her guitar.

"That, Miss Stryfe, is a question just like all the others. To be answered at another time."

The sound of footsteps on the stairs halted their conversation. Lelia came down, a frown on her face. "It's nothing serious," she said as she sat down on the couch. "And it's hardly the first time it's happened. He should be awake by tomorrow, if not tonight."

Nikki stood up. "Can I go see him?"

Lelia nodded.

"Coming with me, Jeremiah?"

Jeremiah snapped out of his inner reverie. "Huh, I'm sorry, what?"

"Coming with me, Jeremiah?" Nikki asked, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up the stairs.

Lelia frowned. "What was that all about?"

The rest shrugged. _Clarissa_, Millie thought.

"Doctor Harker, what made your brother faint? Why did he lose it when he used that ability of his?"

Lelia shrugged. "Like I said, this has happened before. It seems to manifest every time he uses the ability. The first time was when he was trying to defend me from some schoolyard bullies years ago. Suddenly, he starts disappearing, reappearing, seemingly everywhere at once. He could have just let it end pretty quickly, but instead two of the boys ended up in the hospital. Dad had to transfer just for that."

She shook her head. "As a doctor, I'd say his fainting is the result of physical exhaustion due to overuse of the ability. My personal opinion is that it's his abnormal eye that is the source of the ability." Lelia leaned back in her chair and sighed. "As his sister, however, I believe that it isn't so much physical exhaustion as mental exhaustion that makes him collapse. Whenever he uses that ability, something comes out of him, takes control of him, something he doesn't like to talk about, even to our parents or me. And I've always worried that his secrecy, his shame, about whatever it is, may one day kill him."

* * *

Nikki dragged Jeremiah up the stairs and into the hallway. She stopped suddenly, glanced around, and when she was sure they were alone, turned to her tall friend.

"I wasn't going to tell you this, but I'm worried that if I don't, something horrible's going to happen, and we've had enough horrible things happen to us lately."

"What are you talking about?" Jeremiah asked.

Nikki held up two fingers. "Two words. Calamity. Nekyuia."

Jeremiah blinked his cybernetic eyes. "Nekyu-what?"

Nikki sighed and reached up to Jeremiah's face. She pulled him down, then kissed him on the forehead. "I love you like a brother Jeremiah, but you can be really thick sometimes." She turned around and strode off for the room Evans was sleeping in, avoiding Roger Harker as she passed.

Lelia's husband Roger was, in all aspects of the word, a solid man. He was solidly built, had a solid job as the town sheriff, and had a good solid grip on reality and how people worked. He was pulling on his coat as he walked up to Jeremiah. He looked at the tall man and smiled. "Evans'll be fine. He's too tough of a bastard to go under that easily. Hell, the whole family's too tough to go under that easily. You can see him if you like."

Jeremiah shook his head. "No, I'm alright."

Roger nodded and was about to go downstairs when Jeremiah stopped him. "Mr. Harker, does the word 'Nekyuia' mean anything to you?"

"Sure does. It's a drug, pretty popular these days. Non-addictive hallucinogen, injected into the blood stream. The hallucinations tend to be out of the person's memory. Most of the time it's happy daydreams, but reportedly it can also go the opposite way. Bring out your worst memories to go along with your best."

Jeremiah started to sweat. "Is it possible to overdose on Nekyuia?"

Roger nodded. He stepped towards Jeremiah. "All too easy. Very nasty when it happens."

Jeremiah's eyes widened. "I've got to go," he said quickly. Roger's hand caught his arm as he was about to leave.

"It's raining," Roger said. "If you're going out to search for someone with me, you should probably grab a coat."

* * *

The _Poison Rose_ was a saloon that catered to all types. Even those who found there solace in a place other than the bottom of a beer glass. Those who found their solace in darker places, more dangerous places.

The purveyor of the dark places sat in the corner, counting his money. One of dozens of dealers in the region, they made up the major criminal organization of Neo Washington. A woman in a green trench coat walked up to the dealer, pulled out a fistful of double dollars, and slammed it on the table. "Nekyuia," she said.

"Are you sure Miss? It's strong stuff. Very easy to use to omuch and-"

Calamity reached forward and grabbed the man by the collar. "Shut up and give it to me. I've got head full of bad memories, and I just added a new one to the collection. Leave me alone with what few good memories I have."

The dealer nodded, and handed a small vial of amber liquid. Calamity snatched the vial from the man's hand and dropped him. She walked back to her table, pulling a syringe out of her many pockets. She filled it with the liquid and placed the syringe and the vial on the table. She removed her belt and tied it around her bicep. She then picked up the syringe and injected it into her arm. Injected herself into her own memories.

* * *

_Fourteen years ago_.

"Johnny, are we there yet?"

"No Clarissa."

"Ophelia, are we there yet?"

"Nope, not yet Clarissa."

"Aww, I hate waiting," Clarissa said as she sat down on the cold metal floor of the Sandsteamer.

Johnny chuckled. "We'll be there soon sister. You should be thankful we could afford these tickets at all."

Ophelia walked over and knelt down in front of Clarissa. "You're just a little calamity, aren't you? Wanna go outside? We can watch from the observation deck?"

Clarissa's eyes lit up. She jumped up from the floor and started jumping around Johnny. "Can we Johnny? Can we? Can we? Can we?"

Johnny grabbed and picked her up off the ground. "Alright, alright!" He carried up to the observation deck, Ophelia following behind him.

Once they were up there, Clarissa jumped down to the deck and ran to the railing.

Ophelia and Johnny stood watching her, holding each other's hand.

"That your daughter?" a man sitting on the bench beside them asked.

Johnny shook his head. "No, she's my sister."

"I thought as much," the man said. "You two look like you can't be much older than seventeen. How old is she?"

"Eight," Ophelia said. "We're all orphans. We've been traveling together because, well, because there's safety in numbers."

The man chuckled. "Of course. Times are tough. Times are always tough. You do what you can to survive. But, I would take that child as far away from this region as you can. War's starting, and it's only a matter of time before it gets here."

Ophelia nodded. "We will," she said. "Her safety means more than anything to us."

* * *

Calamity smiled at the pleasant memory. It had been so long since she had memories like that. She muttered a bit as she put her head the table in front of her, letting the next memory come.

In the corner, the purveyor of dark places and bad dreams gave a message to local thug. "Make sure this gets to Ryan. We're getting a lot of money for this. Don't screw it up."

* * *

"I want to give something to you," Johnny said.

"Shhh, Clarissa's trying to sleep."

"It's alright," Johnny whispered. "She's already out, an earthquake couldn't wake her." He reached behind him and brought around some scrap metal. "I found it at the junkyard during my lunch break today. I know it's not much now, but…" He held the metal in his hands and watched as the metal flowed into liquid. It swirled around his hands until it formed itself into a small metal cross, with a long chain attached to it.

Ophelia bent her head down and Johnny slowly hung it around her neck. She turned around and pulled out a pack of tarot cards. She shuffled the pack, then spread it out into a fan on the floor. "Pick a card," she said.

Johnny's finger roamed over them, finally settling on the one closest to her right hand. Ophelia picked it up and flipped it over. The Lovers. She and Johnny held it for a second, staring into each others eyes. Suddenly, they split apart, the card separating into two, both glowing red. They leaned forward to kiss, but stopped just short.

"I think we're being watched," Johnny said.

Ophelia grabbed a pillow and threw it a Clarissa's cot. Clarissa laughed loudly as Ophelia rushed over and started tickling her. "What did you see, you little voyeur? What did you see?"

* * *

Evans jolted awake, sweating. Had he been dreaming? Was the whole miserable event just a bad dream?

_No. I'm not that lucky._

He calmed down a bit to figure out where he was. Didn't take him too long. He knew the place well enough.

_Lelia's. They took me to Lelia's._

He glanced around the room. Basic guest bedroom: a bed, a desk, a closet, not much fancy. He had slept in this bedroom dozens of times. However, he wasn't the only occupant. Nikki had moved the desk chair next to his bed and had fallen asleep in it. Her chest moved gently up and down as she slumbered, but all Evans could stare at was her throat. He felt like some kind of vampire, like that blood-sucking freak from the Sand Steamer, but all he could concentrate on was her throat. The throat he had held a knife to only yesterday.

He would have killed her if he hadn't been stopped. He would've killed her.

He needed a drink. A really strong drink.

* * *

"Midvalley?"

"Yes, Master?"

"Go and help Dominique and Rai-Dei. I would like the young Cavalryman to have another episode to drive the point home, and it occurs to me that they might need some… spiritual support."

Midvalley's dead, dry chuckle rang through the halls. "Of course sir."

"Is location a problem? Because I would like it to happen tonight if possible."

"Death has opened my eyes, sir. Location is merely an illusion, and for those who know how to dance around it, you can be anywhere in a matter of beats."

* * *

Nikki leaped down the stairs and skidded to a halt in the middle of the waiting room. "Evans is gone," she said.

Everyone stood up. "What? When?"

Nikki shrugged. "I dunno. I had fallen asleep next to him, when I woke up he was gone!"

"But how did he get by us?" Wolfwood asked.

Meryl tapped him in the forehead. "Use your brain Wolfwood! His eye, remember? He could slide right by us and we'd never know!"

"That's no important right now, where did he go?" Vash said.

Lelia sat down and stroked her chin. "Well… he'd know where he was when he woke up, he's been to this place enough. And you say he almost killed this girl in his frenzy? Then he'd probably see her and feel guilty. And when my brother feels guilty, he drinks."

"Anywhere in particular?" Meryl asked.

Lelia nodded. "_Poison Rose_."

* * *

Calamity smiled into the table. A nice dream, a nice memory. As another one came up, she didn't notice the green-haired man in the gray coat slide onto a bar stool. Nor did she notice the dealers surrounding her. The tallest one took out an empty syringe, and as he approached Calamity, her dreams started to spin out into nightmares.

* * *

Gunbattles raged through the small town, peppered by small explosions as grenades were lobbed at the other side. War had come to the region.

"Hurry Clarissa! We have to get out of here!" Johnny scooped up Clarissa in his arms and ran down the street, Ophelia rushing after him. "

"The Cavalry are taking evacuees in the north section of town," she said. "We can make it. Be a good girl Clarissa, don't say anything. We can make it."

A grenade bounced through the street, landing at Johnny's feet. Ophelia dashed forward and pushed Johnny and Clarissa away.

**B**OOM

When the dust cleared and the rubble stopped falling, Johnny got off of Clarissa and looked around. Ophelia was lying on the ground, pushing herself up. "Something hit me… I can't… I can't move, can't feel my legs."

Johnny ran over to her. "C'mon, I'll carry you."

Ophelia pushed him away and looked towards Clarissa.

"But-"

Ophelia put her finger on his lips. "Think of her. Not of me. Think of her."

Johnny stood up and grabbed Clarissa. "I'm coming back for you with help, I promise."

"Promise all you want. Just get her out of here!"

Johnny nodded, then ran off with Clarissa.

As they were passing the main street, a shot rang out. Fire filled Johnny's leg, and he fell to the ground, dropping Clarissa.

"Damn it," he muttered. "Run Clarissa, RUN!"

Clarissa ran down the street, then stopped when she saw a group of soldiers in tan uniforms approaching her. She quickly ducked into a saloon and watched as the approached her big brother.

"So, you're that other punk. Where's the little girl?"

Johnny spat at the man's feet.

The man laughed, then shot Johnny in the other knee. "Just so you'll understand. We'll kill her. And just so you understand, your girlfriend ain't walking no more. Hell, she ain't speaking no more."

Johnny writhed on the ground in anger. A few yards away, metal lamp posts bent in half. Steel locks broke open, and all over the city, some guns suddenly ceased firing.

The leader laughed again, then pulled out a long knife. He knelt down and cut from the corner of Johnny's eye down to his lip. "There, something to remember us by."

The men started to walk away. "Oh, the little girl's almost definitely already dead. We've got a perimeter set up between here and the Cavalry post. That little girl? She doesn't stand a Thomas' chance in a typhoon."

The men laughed as they walked away.

"Damn them, damn them all to hell!"

Clarissa was about to get out when she heard more men coming. She quietly hid, because Johnny had always told her to hide from strangers, even when he and Ophelia were out. It was part of their game. Only come out when Johnny gave the signal.

"Well, that wasn't very nice of them, was it?"

Johnny turned towards the voice. "Who's there?"

"A friend. A potential friend. Several potential friends, to be exact. Want our help?"

Johnny grunted, and then slowly began to laugh "They're dead. They're all dead. Not a single one of them realizes it, but they're all going to die. ALL OF THEM!"

"Son of a bitch! There goes my gun! Alex wasn't kidding when he said those nano-machines were powerful!"

The liquid metal streamed down from the stranger to Johnny's hands where it formed itself into two knives. Johnny cradled them, laughing.

A second voice came from the darkness, "Well, you certainly seem to have potential. You have the right mindset to be sure. Shall we Master?"

A third voice "He's perfect. Can you train him Martinez?"

The first voice spoke up again. "With a little help, he could be a fine Gung-Ho Gun."

Johnny stopped laughing. "Gung-Ho Gun?" Johnny asked.

"You'll learn soon enough," the second voice said. "However, consider this your first lesson. Humans are not worthy of trust, compassion, or life."

"Are you with us?" the first voice asked. A hand reached out from the darkness in front of Johnny.

Johnny reached up and grabbed the hand. With surprising strength, the hand lifted Johnny off the ground. "We'll carry you for now," the third voice said. "But you'd best learn to walk on your own with us."

* * *

Calamity twitched slightly as the syringe drew blood from her arm. The bad dreams kept her locked far away from the real world. Oblivious to what was happening to her, she whimpered slightly as the nightmares raged in her head.

The man in the gray coat sat at the bar, drink in his hand. He turned around slightly and caught what was going on behind him. He turned back to his drink quickly and began to sketch out a quick plan.

**You could always use the eye, my son. **The voice rang clearly through his head. Harsh and authoritative.

Evans shook his head. _No, I can't. I'll lose it again! I might kill her!_

**Ohh, Evans honey. That was us that tried to make you kill her. She deserved it as well. She's garbage, a mutt. Think of it as basic spring cleaning, Evans.** A second voice in Evans head, this one female. Both had been there for longer than Evans cared to remember.

_Shut up both of you! Since when can you talk to me when I'm not using the Demon's Eye?_

A third voice rang through Evans thoughts. While Evans had never heard it in his head before, it was still familiar. **Since I came along. Master Knives thought you needed some more encouragement.**

_Oh God, not another ghost. You're that musician guy, aren't you? Midvalley?_

Midvalley's laugh rolled through Evans head.

**What a useless son. Won't even use all his advantage in battle! What kind of warrior does that!**

_No father, I won't do it!_

**Martinez gave our family this gift for a reason, **Dominique said, **It would be rude of us to refuse.**

**Use it!** Midvalley said.

In the corner of his eye, Evans could see the dealers kicking everyone out of the bar.

**Use it!** Dominique said.

One of the more sadistic dealers slapped Calamity in the face, laughing when she didn't respond except for a low groan.

**Use it!** Rai-Dei said.

Evans could hear one of the other dealers talking about "Getting some fun out of it."

**USE IT!** they commanded.

* * *

Clarissa staggered through the rubble. Why had Johnny left her? Johnny would never leave her. She knew she had to find Ophelia. Ophelia wouldn't leave her alone. Ophelia would never leave her alone.

As she approached where Ophelia had been, she saw that she was still laying on the ground, but for some reason was clutching at her neck and make strange rasping noises. As if she couldn't talk.

Clarissa stopped. _What's wrong with her?_ She wondered. She heard a noise behind her and hid again, fearful of the soldiers.

The man that approached was not dressed in tan, but black. All Clarissa saw of him was his back. Black clothing and salt and pepper hair. When he spoke, Clarissa was reminded of the voice the others had called "Master".

"Hmmm, well you have some potential. I came here looking for your boyfriend and his sister, but I'll take what I can get."

Ophelia gurgled. From out of nowhere, her voice rang, "Help… me… please."

The man tilted his head slightly. "Help you? I supposed I could. But it's not me you should be asking help for. Ask God for help. Ask for salvation. Ask for forgiveness. If he assents, then maybe I'll help you."

Ophelia took one hand of her throat and reached inside her shirt. She brought out the small cross that Johnny had made for her. Her voice again rang from nowhere, weak and airy. "Please Father, help me. They've taken everything I loved from me. God is all I have left now."

"A good answer. A good answer indeed. Joseph!"

A young man a little older than Ophelia ran out of the darkness. "Yes Father?"

"Help the young lady up. She'll be coming with us."

Joseph nodded. "Whatever you say, Father Danil." Joseph lifted her up in his arms, and they all walked off, back into the darkness from where they had arrived.

Clarissa crawled out of her hiding place. Ophelia had done it too. Ophelia had left without giving her the signal to come out. Both of them had left with very bad men. Clarissa didn't need to know who they were, their voices told it all. She sat in front of a broken building, alone. Across the street, a soldier took aim at the child with his rifle. A pistol pressed to the back of head as heard a voice said. "Now partner, that just ain't any way to shine."

**BLAM**

The soldier fell to the ground, a gaping hole in his head. A large man stepped over him, dressed in white. Two huge dynamos adorned each of his shoulders. "Boys, take what you can, then go on ahead and meet me at the cars. I'm gonna take this kid to the Cavalry."

A man in a black suit and a face plate mask ran up to him. "Boss, that's not a good idea! They'll take you in! You're wanted!"

Brilliant Dynamites Neon grabbed the Bad Lad by the collar and lifted him off the ground. "Who's the boss here, me, or you?" He dropped the man on the ground and gestured away. "This war is starting to lose its sparkle. It's just not shining anymore."

He walked up to Clarissa and tapped her on the shoulder. "You want me to take you to Cavalry?" he said.

Clarissa sniffled a bit, then dried her eyes. "Will you stay with me?"

"No kid, I'm not staying with you."

Clarissa started to cry again. "But… but I'm all alone! I don't want to be alone!"

"You won't be alone, the Cavalry'll take care of you."

"I just… I just wish the killing would stop. That way I wouldn't have to be alone."

The outlaw known as Brilliant Dynamites Neon scooped up the little child. "Maybe I can do that, little one. Maybe I can do that."

Thus began what would be later known as the Neon War.

* * *

Nikki dashed through the rain, everyone else following close behind her. "Damn it! Why couldn't he just have talked to us about it?" she shouted.

"That's my brother for you! Likes to keep to himself sometimes!"

"Yeah!" Vash shouted, "someday, it might kill him!"

"Are you sure about this needle-noggin? Caring about this kid? He did try to kill your daughter!"

"That wasn't him Nicholas," Millie said. "That wasn't Lieutenant Braxler."

The rain was so thick, they saw Roger and Jeremiah running towards them just before they crashed into them.

"What are y'all out here for?" Roger yelled over the rain.

"Evans is gone!"

"Damn, the _Poison Rose_?"

Lelia nodded.

Roger looked thoughtful. "Your friend's probably there as well. It's among the shadier of bars of this town. Let's go!"

He ran ahead down the streets, turned a few corners, then stopped in his tracks. Behind him, everyone gasped.

It wasn't a pretty scene. Men lay all over the street in front of the _Poison Rose_. The window was smashed into pieces. Evans stood in front of the bar, holding a man against the wall with his right hand. In his left, he held a knife stolen from one of the dealers. He laughed as he brought towards the man's face.

BLAM 

The knife went flying out of Evans' hand. He fell backwards, clutching his hand and whimpering softly. Smoke rose from Vash's gun. He raised it into the air and fired it again.

"Listen to me! My name is Vash the Stampede, and you caught me in my most murderous mood! Unless you clear out of this town now, what I'll do to you will make July and Augusta look like a walk through the garden!"

The one standing dealer hesitated slightly.

Click 

_Click_

_Click_

_Click click_

_Click_

_Click click_

Ka-chunk 

The last standing dealer found himself facing down two Grader Automatics, three derringers, a shotgun, a stungun, and three Long Colts, silver, red, and green.

"Still don't believe him?" Wolfwood said. "Why don't you try and find out?"

The man shook his head and bolted, heading for the outskirts of town.

"What the hell was that for, you idiot?" Evans yelled. He started to rise from the ground. "He deserved what I was about to do!"

Vash pulled the hammer back on his gun. "Do you realize what you almost did to my daughter? Do you realize how much self-control it took me not to do worse to you? Do you know why I didn't kill you? Do you want to know why?"

"Why!"

"Because," Vash said as he pushed the hammer of his gun forward. He took a slow step towards Evans, who took a slow step backwards. "No one has the right to take the life of another. For any reason. Nikki said it best. Evans Braxler, this isn't you."

"This isn't…" Evans suddenly clutched at his head and sank to the ground. "Goddamn it, get out of my head. Just shut up and get out of my head."

"Where's Calamity, Evans?" Jeremiah shouted.

Evans pointed towards the inside of the bar.

Jeremiah put his automatic back in his pocket and ran inside the bar. Calamity sat in the corner, holding her knees to her chest, shivering. Jeremiah could only guess that Evans had retained enough control in his frenzy to throw her to safety.

"Oh Jesus Calamity. Damn it Calamity, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He knelt down and wrapped his arms around her. She continued to shake, quivering in fear.

"J-jeremiah?"

"Yeah Calamity, it's me."

She melted into him, clinging to Jeremiah with a death grip that Jeremiah, with all his strength, could never hope to match. As she slowly nuzzled his shoulder, she sobbed, "I don't want to be alone any more. I can't stand it, I can't stand the loneliness. You won't leave me, will you? Will you?"

"I won't leave you Calamity, I'll never leave you."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, I promise."

* * *

Outside, Nikki gingerly approached Evans. He scrambled back, one hand held over his reptilian left eye. "Stay back!" he shouted.

Nikki took another step forward.

"Listen to me Nikki, I'm dangerous. Stay away from me, it's for your own good!"

Nikki took two more steps forward.

"Christ in Heaven Nikki, I almost killed you!"

"I know." Nikki ran forward and grabbed Evans before he could scramble back any further. She put his arm around her neck and lifted him up, helping him walk towards her family.

As she passed the bar, Jeremiah stepped out, holding Calamity on his back, her arms around his neck. They looked at each other, saying nothing.

"Vash, Nick?"

"Yeah Meryl?"

"Tell them. Tell them everything."

"Why honey, why right now?"

"Because dear. They have a right to know."

* * *

The dealer staggered outside of town and spat in the sand. "Damn it, that place is ruined."

"What happened?" another dealer walked up, then another, then another. Soon the entire drug network for Neo Seattle had joined the lone dealer on the outskirts of town.

"Vash the Stampede showed up! No, don't laugh, it's true!"

"It doesn't matter, did you get the blood sample?"

The dealers turned around. Joseph and Elija stood not far away, Ophelia floating behind them.

"Yes, Clarissa's blood sample is all that really matters."

The dealer tossed a small vial towards the trio. Joseph's hand shot out reflexively and snatched it from the air.

The dealer pointed to Elija. "Who's this guy? I don't remember seeing him before?"

Joseph looked up at Elija. "Oh, him? This is Elija L. Lockheart. We're training him to be the next Chapel."

"Chapel?"

Elija nodded. "That's right, Chapel. Chapel of the Resurrection, to be exact."

Ophelia floated forward between the two men. "Don't you think you were a little hard on the girl?"

The dealer spat again. "Hard on her? You didn't tell me she had a freak of a guardian angel! Our cost has tripled!"

Ophelia shook her head. "The price was non-negotiable. You'll get what we promised."

The dealers began to pull their guns. "Well, it appears we have it a disagreement in opinion."

Ophelia began to shuffle through her deck.

"Isn't that unfortunate?" Elija said as he lifted his crucifix upright. The silvery barrel on the bottom gleamed in the light of the head lights of the black car behind him.

"Very unfortunate," Joseph said. "There's what, a hundred of you guys? Really, it hardly seems fair."

Ophelia and Elija covered their eyes, and then all was lost in the blinding light.

* * *

"Okay, I'm confused. Explain the procedure to me again."

Martinez sighed. "Johnny, how many times do I have to explain this to you? Alright, where do your powers come from?"

"The nano-machines you planted in my great-great-great-whatever grandfather. They evolved and were passed down to me and Clarissa."

Martinez nodded as he pulled on a pair of gloves. "Good, and how did, say, Legato, Blayne, and the Gemini get their powers?"

"You tampered with their ancestors genes. Kind of like what you did to me."

"Exactly. Now listen up, because this part's important. As time has gone on, the modifications have continued to evolve. Take our Cavalry friend for example. His Demon's Eye looks drastically different than his mother's."

"Alright, I'm with you so far."

"Good. Now, Legato and Blayne's powers haven't reached their full strength alone. When I first found him, Legato could barely talk to people with his mind, let alone kill them. Now, what do you suppose brought about his current frightening level of power?"

"Er… lots of training?"

"Hardly Johnny," Legato interjected. "It was through the Master's generosity that I now have this ability."

"Ohhh, you mean Vash's arm?"

"Exactly," Martinez said. "The radiation emitted from Plants cause the modifications to evolve much faster. The speed is increased a staggering amount if that radiation is permanently attached to the body."

"Say, through an arm?"

"Yes."

"So, we're going to attach the Master's arm to Blayne's body?"

Legato nodded. "Yes, the Master's generosity knows no bounds, it seems. He sacrificed his own arm and chose to give to Blayne."

"Well, the gun arm doesn't hurt either I suppose, but there's one small problem. Master Knives is a bit larger than Blayne. Plus, he's a guy, she's a girl. The arm isn't exactly going to fit like it did to Legato."

Martinez laughed. "That's where I come in. I'm an expert bone craftsman. This is child's play."

Johnny nodded, and smiled.

"Shall we start?" Martinez asked.

"Hold on one moment," Legato said. "I wish to tell Lorand to go on ahead.

Lorand, are you there?

**Of course sir.**

Legato smiled. **Good, take the Guardians and head for Neo Seattle. Burn the place to the ground. Destroy everything. Johnny and Blayne will follow you shortly.**

**I thought Blayne and Johnny killed each other out of penance? **

**Not quite. Just a few new scars. A lost limb or two.**

**Of course sir. I won't disappoint you.**

I should hope not.

Legato nodded.

"Now, I'm going to warn you right now Blayne," Martinez said. "This is going to hurt like hell."

The screams echoed through the night. The wolves took up the howl, feeling their mistress' pain as she was changed into something else.

* * *

Calamity: Two man are walking down the same path, one behind the other. The man behind is taller, yet still walks in the other's shadow. Disgusted, the taller man finds a new path, and walks down it for a while. This path proves to be treacherous, a dangerous path to tread. One of gun smoke, blood, and blinding light. Again, the taller man leaves disgustedly, and returns to his original path, still in the shadow of the first man. Can the taller man ever leave the shadow of the one who walks before him? Is the shadow truly cast by him, or is it just part of the taller man's mind? Will he ever find a path to call his own? Next Chapter: Son of a Preacher.


	22. The Son of a Preacher

The rain still fell outside of New Seattle. In the small clinic, eight people had gathered to hear Vash and Wolfwood speak.

"…And that's it I guess. The whole miserable tale." Vash said, slumping against the table. "I can't rest, I can't live a normal life until my brother is stopped."

"Any questions?" Wolfwood asked.

"The hair?" Meryl said. She was sitting on a couch next to Nikki, who was clutching a pillow to her chest.

Vash reached up and touched the black patch in his hair. "Oh, right. The hair. To be perfectly honest, I'm not entirely sure what it means, but here's what it is as far as the doc and I could figure it. Energy."

"Energy?" Lelia asked.

Vash nodded. "Energy. Plants, at least free-walkers, only have a limited amount of energy, represented by the hair color. When it's all used up, it's over for us."

"What uses up the energy?" Meryl said.

"That's the thing, I'm not entirely sure. It isn't just living, I mean I have to eat and sleep to live just like humans. I'm starting to think it's just for special things. Calling the Angel Arms, for instance, uses up energy, depending on how powerful you make it. I think my brother used up a great deal of energy regenerating his body. And I'm thinking maybe… I used some of it when I made Nikki."

"So what are you saying Vash?" Wolfwood asked. "That every time you and Meryl-"

"No no, it's not like that. I wanted to have a kid, I really did. And that's what used up the energy, when Nikki was made."

Roger rubbed his temples. "So she only got pregnant because… you wanted to have a kid?"

"I think so. Yeah, I realize that it doesn't make sense."

"It makes sense to me," Meryl whispered.

"Well than what about Nikki?" Jeremiah asked, "Her hair has been getting blonder and blonder after the Jenora thing."

Vash shrugged. "I just don't know. Maybe she's got less energy then me, but she can regenerate it. There's an awful lot I don't know about my own biology, hell I don't even know if I'm immortal if I'm going to die of old age one day. Nikki's biology is even more of a mystery."

Calamity was sitting on a chair in the corner, wrapped in a blanket. "Is that everything?" she asked softly.

"Not quite."

A man stepped from the shadows. A man dressed in a gray bodysuit, with a blindfold over his eyes. "There is still one thing you do not know."

Vash's hand started to stray near his gun. "And you would be?"

The man put his arms at his sides and bowed. "Raifen the Shadow, formerly of the Gung-Ho Guns."

"Where's Zarlina?" Evans asked. He was sitting in a chair next to the couch, staring at the ceiling.

"At the hotel. I thought it safer if we do not make our presence too well known. Both sides would gladly kill us on sight."

"Relax everyone," Evans said. His gaze was still locked on the ceiling. "He's trustworthy now."

"Can we trust your assessment of that, Evans? Of who's trustworthy or not?" Vash asked.

Evans shrugged. "I just said that he was trustworthy. I never said that I was. God knows I can't be trusted."

Raifen shook his head. "Enough of this, there is no time! Vash, do you wish to know what your brother is really up to? What he is truly planning?"

"Isn't he trying to make me see the world his way? Just like last time?"

"No. That is just a side plan. He feels that if recent events haven't convinced you, then nothing will. This plan is the culmination of his hatred, his rage. He will finish the job he started a century and a half ago. He will kill all of mankind. In one, single, swift stroke. He will destroy everything."

Wolfwood frowned. "How? He can't possibly have that power!"

"Himself? No. A single Plant lacks that much power. But combined together? Imagine what could be done with multiple Plants, working together!"

"You can't do that," Roger said. "It's physically impossible. The Plant Engineers have tried everything and failed."

Raifen shook his head. "Not so. There was a way. We were searching for a new world when we crashed on this sandy rock. And we brought the tools to change the world, in need be. Specifically, a tool simply called the 'Terraformer'. A machine that can combine the power of multiple Plants, allowing for amazing things."

"And what does Knives plan to do with this machine?" Vash asked.

"He needed a way to selectively kill the humans while harming as little else as possible. In his mind, only the humans had sinned, and only they should be punished. So he made a virus. A nano-machine virus. Tests indicate that it could kill a human within a minute. This is where the Teraformer comes in, because with the power of enough Plants, he could scatter the virus around the world within a matter of… I believe he said twenty minutes. It doesn't matter if a vaccine could be created for the virus or not, because there won't be time for it to be found. Every human being in the world would be dead."

Silence. Vash leaned against a table for support. Wolfwood sat on the table, reflexively reaching for a cigarette before Millie slapped his hand.

"I ask for purely academic purposes, but how many of those 'Teraformers' where there? Just one?" Wolfwood asked.

Raifen grimaced. "No. There was a back up. I stole the first from a ship infested by vampires. They're all dead now. The back-up is stored in what was Sky City."

"Sky City, oh my God. That's why they were there. That's what Danil was after." Wolfwood reached for a cigarette. "Rules be damned. I need a smoke after hearing this."

When he saw that no one was about to stop him, he pulled out the cigarette. Evans pulled out a cigar, cut off the tip with a cutter on the table, and produced his lighter. Flicking it on, he and Wolfwood lit their cigar and cigarette in the flame.

"Where does the virus come from?" Jeremiah asked.

"From the nano-machines in the bodies of Johnny the Bladestorm and Calamity Shriver. Of the families Martinez injected the machines into, only the Shriver family's have matured enough to make a virus from."

Calamity shrugged off the blanket and pushed up the sleeve of her shirt. A small needle mark was in her upper arm. "They… they took my blood."

"This… this is it. This is the end of the world type stuff. This is Armageddon, this is Ragnarock, the End of Days, whatever," Nikki said. She clutched the pillow tighter, as if trying to gain some support from it.

Jeremiah looked up, "Hey, how do you know all this? Raifen? Raifen? Where did he go?"

The ninja had melted into the shadows, his dishonor in some small way atoned for.

"Now what?" Meryl asked.

"Sleep," Lelia said. "Sleep, sleep, sleep. It's three in the morning, we've all had a very tiring day, and we need sleep. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

Everyone stood up and started to leave the room, save Evans and Nikki.

"I'll go up later," Nikki said.

Lelia nodded. "Alright, you can take the room at the end of the hall. Evans?"

Evans shrugged and continued to stare at the ceiling. "I'm not tired, I may just stay up all night."

"Alright, good night both of you."

* * *

"Are you sure it's such a good idea, leaving her with Evans?" Vash asked as he unbuttoned his coat.

Meryl pulled on a borrowed nightshirt. "You don't actually think he's going to try to kill her again, do you?"

Vash removed his shirt, revealing to Meryl that had gained more scars in his time away. "I don't know. I just don't think it's a good idea."

Meryl crept up behind Vash and hugged him. "Was it a good a idea that I fall in love with an immortal? That I have a child with the most wanted outlaw on the planet?"

"But that was different."

"Was it?"

* * *

Wolfwood sat on a chair and continued to chain-smoke.

"What's bothering you Nicholas?" Mille put leaned over the back of Wolfwood's chair.

"Nothing honey. Go to sleep."

"Is it about Danil?"

Wolfwood shook his head. "More of a personal problem. I know I should be worried about Danil, but it's all I can think about."

Millie frowned. "You're… you're not worrying about whether I still love you, are you? Because I do."

Wolfwood stabbed his cigarette out in an ashtray Roger had found for him. "No no, it's not that. I know you still love me. Believe me, the feeling's mutual."

"It's Jeremiah, isn't it?"

Wolfwood nodded.

"I don't think I can help you on that one. I mean, that's something you two have to work out for yourselves, isn't it?"

"I dunno. I've been told quite a few things about that kid from different sources. I guess I didn't know what to expect. I certainly didn't expect to see me with brown hair, that's for certain."

"I could tell you the truth!" Millie said brightly.

Wolfwood smiled. "What's the truth, big girl?"

"The truth is that he's a good kid. He's brave, he's good. He's loyal. He's got faith, he looks after us. He's your son. Every inch, your son." She hugged him around the neck.

* * *

"You should go to bed," Evans said. "You might have had the most shocks and revelations over these past couple of days than any of us. What with your… biology?"

Nikki nodded. "I always knew I was different. That I wasn't entirely human. I never imagined I was half Plant. Could I be put into a bulb?"

Evans shrugged and stubbed out his cigar. "Why would anyone want to? Go to bed, banish those thoughts from your pretty little head."

Nikki shook her head. "No. I don't think I can sleep. I'm like Calamity, I guess. I don't really want to be alone right now."

Evans lit another cigar. "Well, I'm not sleeping tonight. I don't think it's safe for me to sleep tonight."

"I'll watch you, if you stay up with me," Nikki said as she curled up on the couch.

"Can you stand me smoking cigars all night?"

"I think I can live with it."

* * *

"Time to go, Zarlina."

"What now, Raifen?"

"I don't know, I just don't know."

"We should help them."

"Why?"

"Because we're human, just like they are. We may be different, but we're still human. This concerns us as well."

* * *

The new day began pleasantly enough. The twin suns peaked over the horizon, their rays flowing over New Seattle, its reservoirs swelled by the rain of the night before. It was a good morning, by all accounts.

Private Johansen turned to Corporal Winston. "Corp, how do we do this? How does one act in front of the daughter of a legend?"

Corporal Winston strode up to the door of the clinic. "With respect Johansen. With respect." He knocked on the door. "Dr. Harker? It's the Cavalry ma'am! We need to talk to you about something?"

The sound of feet coming down the stairs, then the door opened to reveal a tired looking Lelia in a bathrobe. "What is it?" she asked, "is there something wrong with my father?"

Corporal Winston chuckled. "No no, nothing like that. We were just wondering if you had seen your brother lately?"

"Over here boys," Evans called from inside the house.

Lelia stepped aside to let the soldiers in. They found Evans lounging in the waiting room of the clinic. "Well well, Johansen and Winston. What's new back at the fort?"

Johansen and Winston saluted. Evans returned the salute.

"Where's Nikki?" Lelia asked.

Evans nodded upwards. "She fell asleep an hour or two ago. I took her up to her room."

"We have your new orders, sir. They were given to me with the precise instructions that they were not to be read until I found you," Winston said. He tore open an envelope, removed the paper from within, and began to read.

"Lieutenant Evans Braxler. You are hereby under arrest for the crimes of murder and treason. You have the right to rema… what the hell?"

Privet Johansen looked over his shoulder. "What in God's green heaven is this? This is ludicrous Corp! You can't do this!"

Winston shook his head. "I refuse to! These charges are obviously false! No one, not even Major Allenby could doubt your dedication!"

Evans stood up and dusted himself off. He shrugged. "Such is life boys. Go on and take me. I'm sure it'll be sorted out back at the fort."

"Sir, I cannot do this! I can't bring in a superior officer in on bogus charges!"

"Oh come on, your loyalty is inspiring, but it's not worth risking your positions over," Evans said as he reached for his hat."

"But sir-"

"Don't 'but sir' me right now Winston, I am not in the mood. Whether the charges are real or not does not particularly matter to me right now. All I know is that it's safer for everyone if I am in your custody. You are no longer being told to do this by the piece of paper you have in your hands, you are being ordered to do it by a superior officer. Is that clear?"

Winston folded up the paper. "If… if you say so sir. Do you want to get anything before we leave? Your sunglasses maybe?"

Evans shook his head. "I think I'm done wearing the sunglasses for now boys." He turned to Lelia and removed his dog tag. "Hey, give these to Nikki when she wakes up," he said, handing them to her.

Lelia closed her fist around the tags. "I'll call Dad. He'll get this all straightened out. These are ludicrous charges."

Evans shrugged. "Eh, whatever. The world's ending, right? It doesn't matter if I get out or not. Maybe we're better of if I don't." So saying, he strode out of the clinic, his jailers jogging to catch up with him.

* * *

Wolfwood stepped out of the door to his room and looked around. He heard a door close and turned to see Vash leaving his room. He grabbed him by the shoulders. "Vash! I need to talk to you."

"If it's about the doomsday devices, I haven't come up with any bright ideas."

Wolfwood shook his head. "No, not that. It's about Jeremiah."

Vash gently pushed Wolfwood away. "Sorry, I can't help you there. I'm not going to play group therapist for you two."

Wolfwood nodded. "I know that, I just want to know where he is!"

Vash stared at the ceiling. "Er… after he found out that Evans had been taken away, he decided to go out for a walk. I think he was heading northish."

"Evans was taken away?"

Vash nodded. "By the Cavalry. On the charge of treason I believe."

Wolfwood shook his head. "Honestly, things never could've been worse."

"That's exactly what Jeremiah said."

* * *

By some strange happenstance, one of the churches in New Seattle was built across the street from a car dealership. The church had raised no end of fuss over the car dealership being there, but the mayor of New Seattle had suddenly found a fruit basket with a large bag of money in it in his bedroom one day and suddenly figured out which side of the debate he came down on.

To make up for it, the mayor had funded many improvements for the church. A new pulpit, new paint on the roof, and benches in front of the church were among the many things the mayor's "generosity" had made.

It was on one of the benches that Jeremiah T. Wolfwood sat, his Cross Punisher leaning against the wall next to him, staring at the car lot.

"Mind if I sit here?"

Jeremiah looked up. A man in a gray coat stood before him. He wore his hat low, so that all that you could see of his face was his nose, mouth, and beard.

Jeremiah grunted in affirmation, and the stranger sat down beside him, dropping his bag to the side. "Thanks amigo. A body needs to rest for a while after all that travelin'."

Jeremiah glanced sideways at the stranger. "You a traveler? Why? On the run maybe?"

The man laughed. "Oh no. I've had a little trouble with the law before, but I'm a free man now. I'm just wandering the planet, taking in some of God's wondrous creations."

" 'God's wondrous creations'? Have you actually _looked_ around this planet lately?"

The stranger laughed again. "Oh, I don't know. I find that everything God creates is wonderful. Even the darker things. I mean, you gotta use some real dark colors to make a beautiful picture. What we're going through right now on this dusty planet? That's just a swash of dark blue on the Lord's canvas. But hey, even in the darkness, you kind find a few light hues. Just look over there," he pointed off to the right.

Jeremiah continued to stare at the car dealership, until the stranger smacked him in the back of the head. "Boy, will you quit staring at that motorcycle? It's a fine bike, but I'm trying to show you something!"

Jeremiah rubbed the back of his head and looked to where the stranger was pointing. A father, with one child on his shoulders and another the mother's side walked down the streets to the ice cream parlor.

"See? Ain't that a nice sight? A happy family?"

Jeremiah shrugged. "I wouldn't know, I was missing part of the happy family bit."

"Well that's too bad. What didn't you have? No mother, no father? Just an unhappy family?"

Jeremiah laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back, staring at the sky. "No father. All my life I have no father, just a continuing succession of father figures. Then suddenly he comes back into my life… and he's not at all what I expected."

The stranger's lips curled upwards. "Well of course he ain't. We can never expect what a person's gonna be like."

"Yeah, it's just that, well, I've heard so many different accounts of who is. Some of them conflicting. Some say he's a saint, some of 'em say he's a murderer. And I just don't know which to believe."

The stranger's grin grew larger. "Well it's a lucky thing for you that I chose to sit here, amigo, 'cause I can tell you exactly which story to believe." He leaned forward and turned his head to Jeremiah. "Believe none of them. Those stories are just that, stories. They aren't all true. So don't believe any of them at all. Meet the man yourself, and make your own decision, free of the bigotry of others."

Jeremiah frowned at the sky, then looked at the stranger. "I guess… that's one way of looking at it."

"It's worked for me thus far. Well, I'd better get moving, my bus is leaving soon." The stranger stood up and shouldered his bag. "I'll see ya around, Jeremiah." He started to walk away.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Jeremiah called after him. "How do you know my name?"

The stranger looked behind him. "I knew you before you were born, and I'll know you after you die. I'm the greatest friend you'll have in this world, but for now, I must simply remain a stranger." He then vanished into the crowd.

Jeremiah stared at where the stranger had stood. "Who the hell was that?" he muttered to himself. He turned back to the car lot and continued to stare at the bike.

* * *

Nikki turned over, mumbling slightly. Everyone had left the house on some errand or another. Even Lelia had stepped out for a few minutes to head down to the pharmacy.

Nikki, still tired from trying to stay up all night, was content to try and sleep. She clutched the dog tags Evans had left tightly and turned again, trying to find a comfortable position on the couch. A sudden noise in the front room woke her. Her eyes flew open and her hand flashed down for her gun. Before she could reach it, however, a wet rag covered her mouth. She tried to fight, but her assailant was too strong. The last thing Nikki saw before she fell unconscious was dark gray fur and a mouth full of teeth.

* * *

Jeremiah heard a thud by him as something heavy hit the ground beside the bench. Wolfwood slid into the bench next to him. "Do you always carry that everywhere?" he asked.

"You do," Jeremiah responded.

"Touché."

Jeremiah shrugged and continued to stare at the car dealership.

"That's a nice bike," Wolfwood said.

"Yeah, it is," Jeremiah responded.

"I kind of like that one next to it," Wolfwood said, pointing to a plainer motorcycle.

"Why? It's not as nice."

"Well, you've got more freedom with that one. You can customize it as you see fit. The other one has everything already built in, so you can't really make it yours."

"Yeah, I heard that you liked to fix up old bikes."

Wolfwood shrugged. "It's a hobby."

"I've heard a lot of things about you," Jeremiah added. His eyes still locked on the motorcycles.

"So have I," Wolfwood said. "Last night, after talking to your mother, I decided to find out for myself."

"Yeah, I reached that decision myself a little while ago."

"I guess… I'll start by apologizing for my behavior back on the bus."

Jeremiah leaned back and turned to Wolfwood. "Well, I guess we must be related, because I acted like a jackass as well."

Wolfwood put out a hand, and Jeremiah took it. As they shook hands, Wolfwood asked, "Yeah, how did that work out between you and that girl? Calamity was her name?"

"I think she's forgiven me. I hope to God she's forgiven me." He dropped Wolfwood's hand. "So what have you heard about me?"

"Conflicting things. Mostly that you're just like me. Which honestly scares the hell out of me, because I'm not that great a person."

Jeremiah shrugged as he leaned back into the bench. "I dunno, mom seemed to think you were a really great person."

"Yeah, well you're mother's the sweetest human being on the planet. I guess it was an attraction of opposites. The sweet girl to the bitter priest, the big kid to the man who never really had a childhood."

"Heh. Well, I seem to have gotten your disposition in a way. I dunno, maybe it's because everyone always told me I was just like you, I sort of felt that I had to be you, ya know?"

Wolfwood shook his head. "That's ridiculous. You shouldn't want to be anyone you aren't, least of all me."

Jeremiah shrugged. "That's how I saw it at the time, at least I see that now. Of course, the problem was I didn't really know who you were. Mom had her view, but like you said, she saw you through rose-colored glasses. So I pieced together what I could from her description along with what Vash and Meryl said. I tried to follow that for a while, until I found Danil."

"Oh God, what did he tell you?"

"He told about your days with the Flock. About your training under Chapel the Evergreen. About you being a traitor, and doubly so. I guess I tried to follow that path for a while, but I don't think that was your path; it was Father Danil's. And I couldn't walk that bloody path for the rest of my life. And now…" he stared up at the sky. "Now I don't know what path I'm walking. I'm still searching for a path."

Wolfwood buried his head in his hands. "It's all my fault," he said softly.

Jeremiah shrugged. "It wasn't entirely your fault. I imposed it on myself to an extent. Now… I just need to find the right path, I guess."

Wolfwood leaned back and stared at the sky as well. "You know, I had a tough time finding the right path as well. A spiky-haired idiot had to show me the right path. Hell, even that spiky-haired idiot had help. He only found his path with the help of a short-haired, pushy insurance girl."

"Your point?"

Wolfwood leaned forward and put his hand on his knees. "My point is that it's very difficult to find your own true path by yourself. We all need a little outside help. If you'll just give me a chance… maybe I can help you to find your path. To make up for not being there, for not being strong enough to survive."

Jeremiah closed his eyes and smiled. "I told you, that wasn't your fault. I don't blame you for that."

Wolfwood's mouth turned up into a grin. "Humor your old father, eh? He's just trying to look out for his son after all."

A scream echoed through the town. Both men leapt to their feet, instinctively reaching for their Cross Punishers.

A crowd of people rushed down the street, streaming past the two tall men.

"Did I hear them screaming about giant metal spiders?" Jeremiah asked.

"I'm afraid so," Wolfwood said and his flipped the clasp on his Cross Punisher. Jeremiah followed suit.

Jeremiah's eyes started glowing. "I see 'em. Holy shit, what are those?"

"If they are what I think they are, they're hunks of lost technology guarding crashed ships. No idea what they're doing out here though."

"Open fire?"

"Open fire."

Jeremiah hit a few switches on the side arm of his Cross Punisher. Wolfwood reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his sunglasses.

"Showtime," they said.

And both their Cross Punishers spat fire at the oncoming robots.

* * *

Lorand the Gearhead, one of the few remaining Gung-Ho Guns, stood on a cliff overlooking the hill and smiled. The Guardians were performing excellently. His flipped open a panel on his right arm and checked the signs of all the Guardian robots. The ones on the east side of town were encountering some trouble. He'd have to see if someone was putting up an adequate defense

"How's it going?" Johnny's voice said behind him.

Lorand turned around, then leapt back in surprise. "Whoa! What happened to you?"

Johnny scratched the new scar on the other side of his head, the twin to the one he had received at the hands of the soldiers so long ago. "What, the scars? Punishment for failure, I thought Legato would've told you."

"Ummm… no. I was talking about your arms."

"Oh this! Yeah, this is part of the punishment too. No big deal." Johnny held up his arms. All over the forearm and bicep, metal studs poked through the skin.

"But… how?"

Johnny tapped Lorand in the forehead. "The nano-machines, Lorand. Don't ask me how, but they've integrated the metal into my skin. Doesn't 'cause a problem at all. Hurt like sonofabitch though. Anyway, how are the Guardians holding up?"

Lorand blinked a few times, then warmed up to his favorite subject. "Beautifully, they're rolling over most of the resistance the town is putting up. There is some trouble on the East side, not sure what that is."

"I believe that that's where Jeremiah and Wolfwood are. But no matter. Is that the control for the Guardians?"

Lorand nodded and showed the large box like controller to Johnny. He was about to explain to Johnny about the controls when a low growl interrupted him.

"Ahh, that'll be Blayne," Johnny said.

"Blayne?"

A tall, sleek figure appeared climbing the hill. At least eight feet, four inches high, it was a creature of muscles and fur, despite its slim build. A long protruding muzzle and pointy ears completed the figure of a wolf that walked like a man. She, for it was definitely female, if nothing else could be told about the figure, had a girl slung over one shoulder. A wolf trailed at her heels.

"That's Blayne? That mindless creature is Blayne?"

Blayne stopped and gently placed Nikki on the ground. Her golden eyes regarded the man with disdain. **Creature Lorand? Maybe. Mindless? Certainly not. I'm almost insulted in fact.**

Lorand took a step backwards. "What the hell?"

Johnny shrugged. "She is related to Legato. Is her telepathy that surprising?"

"But… how… with the fur… and the fangs?"

Johnny grinned. "Should you tell him, or do you want me to do it?"

Blayne stepped forward. **I'll tell him. Haven't you ever wondered, Lorand, how I was able to talk to the wolves? What exactly it was that Martinez did to my ancestor's genes that gave me these powers?**

"I dunno, I never really thought about it!" Lorand said. He took another step backwards.

"Maybe you should have, Lorand. It's quite simple. Martinez is interested in shaking up the natural order of life. He feels it's become too complacent, which is dangerous for everything. Take the werewolves for example. Too easily destroyed but silver, dangerous, mindless beasts."

**So what did Martinez do to solve this? Simple. He made a better werewolf. Me. He had some geneticists fool around with the werewolf DNA, injected it into me Legato's ancestor along with the psychic genome code, and the result stand before you. I had to have the Master's arm grafted onto me before my full potential could be reached, but now I have reached the pinnacle of my power. Isn't it beautiful?**

Lorand chuckled nervously.

**Oh, one more thing I must tell you. It's from the Master. "Thank you for all your hard work, Lorand. But I'm afraid we no longer have any need of your services."**

"What? But… but I can control the Guardians!"

"Master Knives showed me how to do that before we left," Johnny said. "We really don't need you any more."

Lorand stepped fearfully away from Blayne and bumped into Johnny.

"I don't know why you're so afraid of Blayne," Johnny said as he raised his hands. "After all, how much cybernetic metal have you put in your body?"

Lorand raised his head slightly, his eyes blazing fire. "Don't touch… my work!"

Johnny chuckled. "I wouldn't dream of it Lorand. I'm just going to kill you." He flipped out a knife and threw it at Lorand's neck. Lorand gurgled, then fell limp. Johnny let him fall and picked up the dropped controller.

"Why did you bring her guitar along?" he asked.

**A whim**, Blayne replied.

"Oh. Whatever."

* * *

Jeremiah and Wolfwood found themselves surrounded by robots. "Don't you have any special ammo in that thing for this?" Wolfwood asked.

"Er… not really. I wasn't expecting to have to fight robots. Ever. Can't you use your RPG launcher?"

"There might still be people in those buildings. I'm not a bout to risk a stray blast demolishing one of 'em."

"Well… now what?"

Electricity crackled along the five of the robots and they fell to the ground. Calamity appeared behind them, electricity arcing between her fingers. "I just can't leave you alone for a second, can I Jeremiah?"

Jeremiah laughed as he shot another robot. "I take it you've forgiven me?"

"For what?"

"For, ough!" Wolfwood had elbowed him in the ribs.

"Shut it, kid!"

Another robot went down from a stun gun bolt, while seven others flew down from gunfire. Vash, Meryl, Millie, and Roger appeared on the horizon. It didn't seem to matter, though. For as soon as the robots started falling from their barrage, they started to retreat, sliding out of the city.

Piercing laughter came from the rooftop of the church. Everyone looked up to see Johnny standing next to a large wolf-like figure that had Nikki slung over its shoulder.

Jeremiah, Wolfwood, Millie, and Roger sprang to Vash and Meryl, straining to hold them back.

**The Master sends his regards, Vash the Stampede, and assures you that he will take excellent care of his little niece. **

Johnny waved to Calamity. "Hiya again Clarissa."

Clarissa glared. "Don't call me that. My name's Calamity now."

"Aww, you don't want to be my little sister Clarissa any more?"

"I stopped being your little sister a long time ago, Johnny. Just like you stopped being my older brother."

Johnny laughed. "So much for our little family then."

**Let's go.**

Johnny nodded, and the two disappeared behind a steeple.

* * *

Jeremiah: I heard a story once. About the first Cavalryman, James Braxler. Three years after we crashed on this rock, he took up a gun and banded together like-minded people to protect those who could not protect themselves from the bandits and the wild sandworms. The Cavalry tradition started long before the Federal Government came into being, and its fine tradition has survived down to this day, in the form of General Phillip Braxler, commander of all the Cavalry Special Forces, and his son, the rising officer Lieutenant Evans Braxler. At least, I hope it has. God I hope it has. Next Chapter: The Soldier.


	23. The Soldier

I don't own either Trigun or the characters. Not much to say this time around. Er.. I've got one or two pieces of fanart I'm trying to put up on the site, but it's misbehaving. I'll get to work on that.

* * *

Ft. Backdraft is located about three hundred iles from December City and two hundred iles from Neo New York, and is surrounded by a town almost large enough to merit being a city in and of itself. The fort provides military protection to both cities and all the surrounding towns. This would be difficult for most garrisons, but Ft. Backdraft managed it. They managed it because most, if not all, of the Cavalry Special Forces was located and garrisoned in Ft. Backdraft.

The current head of Ft. Backdraft, and by extension the officer in charge of Cavalry Special Forces, was General Phillip Braxler, hero of the Neon Wars, widower, father of two. About six feet in height, with very dark skin and graying hair, and features he always thanked God had not been passed down to his daughter.

Currently he was sitting behind his desk trying to figure out how to word his latest request for more money. He chopped off the end of a cigar in a small cigar cutter, lit it, and tried to think of reasons why he should not deal with this request to a January City idiot. A knock at the door provided him with an excellent reason not to do so.

"Come in," he called.

The door opened and Colonel Winchester entered. "Sir, I need to talk to you about something."

"Is it about Captain Bartholomew's transfer? Because the man left on the first Sandsteamer this morning along with his family. I actually think I heard every male in the garrison sigh when they saw his daughter leave." He chuckled. Then he looked more closely at Colonel Winchester's face, locked somewhere between despair and urgency. "What is it?" he asked more seriously.

"It's about your son," Colonel Winchester said.

"Oh God, what has he done now to get up Major Allenby's ass?"

"Be brought up on charges of treason?"

"… Could you say that again, Winne? I thought I just heard you say that my son was being brought up on a charge of treason?"

"He's being brought here as we speak."

General Braxler leaned back in his chair and stared out the window, chewing on his cigar thoughtfully. "This is ludicrous," he said finally.

"Agreed," Colonel Winchester responded.

"When's his trial date?" the General asked.

"Within a day of his arrival. Which shouldn't be any more than two or three days."

General Braxler's eyebrows raised slightly. "That soon? Someone must be strong-arming the courts."

Colonel Winchester nodded again.

"Winne, find out who could make an accusation like this. Check all the officers, short of you and me. Major Allenby, Major Xing, Major Kruz, Major Hunt, Colonel Landers-"

"Colonel Landers, Phillip? I don't think he'd ever be able to do something like that. He's the sweetest natured solder I've ever met."

General Braxler pointed his cigar at her. "Appearances can be deceiving Winne, remember Calanbrough Hill? Someone is trying to get Evans killed, and I damn well want to know who!"

* * *

Vash and Calamity stood at the edge of town as they watched the massive Sand Steamer chug away. Calamity pulled out a pair of yellow sunglasses with a "w" bend in the earpiece that the man standing beside her had given her so long ago. She slipped them on and turned to Vash. "Was that the right thing to do?" she asked.

Vash nodded. "I can't risk losing anyone else. It's far too dangerous around me. I've already lost a loved one, I can't risk losing another."

"I mean did we have to bound and gag your wife to get her on the Steamer?"

Vash smiled. "I don't think we could've gotten her on any other way."

They turned and started walking back towards the clinic in silence.

"I see you're wearing your trademark red coat again," Calamity said after a while.

Vash shrugged. "Meryl made me. Any way, it feels better than the black one."

"Ya know, red is the color of blood."

"It's also the color of determination and courage."

Calamity looked down at her green coat. "Maybe I should put some red into the outfit," she said.

She suddenly found a pair of red sunglasses thrust in front of her face. "Wanna trade?" Vash asked. "My old sunglasses for these new ones?"

Calamity smiled and removed the tangerine glasses and handed them to Vash. He slipped them on and gave the red glasses to Calamity. "Here, it's not much, but maybe they'll give you the determination you need."

Calamity pushed the sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. "Why did you give me those in the first place?"

Vash shrugged. "I dunno, I was thinking I didn't need them anymore, and you seemed so impressed at meeting me."

Calamity shook her head. "Who knew that a simple pair of sunglasses would take me this far?"

"It's the little things in life that take us the farthest. The biggest storms are started by a butterfly flapping its wings halfway around the world."

Calamity looked at Vash. "Wow, was that deep wisdom gained through a century and a half of life?"

Vash shrugged. "Nah. I think I got that from a fortune cookie."

* * *

Wolfwood and Jeremiah sat in the waiting room of the clinic. Wolfwood kept reflexively reaching for his cigarettes, and every time his fingers brushed his pack, Jeremiah smacked his hand away.

"There are sick people here, dad. Can't you see the no smoking signs?"

Wolfwood grimaced and put his hand back down by his side.

The front door opened and Vash and Calamity wandered in. They sat down heavily on a couch and looked over at the Wolfwoods.

"The girls safely on the Steamer?" Wolfwood asked.

Vash nodded. "Yep. Soon they'll be home, safe in December City."

"December City? So you guys already figured it out?"

They turned to see Lelia coming out of a patient's room, wiping her hands on a rag.

"Figured what out?" Vash asked.

"Where your brother's going," Lelia answered.

Vash raised an eyebrow. "You figured that out?"

Lelia put the rag down and nodded. "It's kind of obvious when you think about it. Me and Roger talked it over last night. This doomsday device of his, it needs a lot of Plants to work, right? So naturally he's going to go to the place with the most Plants he can connect to it. What place has the most usable Plants? The Second City, December."

"… December?"

"December."

Vash and Wolfwood sprang up to find Jeremiah and Calamity blocking their path. "What are you two going to do? Run after the Sand Steamer? Radio in to tell them that the most wanted man on the planet and his dead friend want to get their girlfriends off?" Calamity asked.

Wolfwood stared into Jeremiah's eyes. "She's just not my 'girlfriend', she's also your mother. Aren't you worried?"

Jeremiah nodded. "I am worried, but running after her without thinking isn't going to solve anything. You're my father, you're supposed to teach me to act rationally. I know it's hard for you to do this, missing twenty years of your life, but act your age!"

Wolfwood breathed deeply, then sat down on the couch. Vash sat down beside him and put his head in his hands. "God, no matter what I do my loved ones are in danger. Am I not meant to save them all?"

"No," Lelia said, "you're not."

She walked up to Vash and hit him over the head. "You know, the species arrogance your brother has seems to have passed on to you as well. You think you're humanity's defender against your brother's mania, but we can defend ourselves pretty damn well! I grew up in a fort, surrounded by soldiers. I know for a fact that humanity can defend itself if it knows about the threat it faces! Have some trust in us for once. They'll stay alive long enough for you four to come riding over the hill, so stop worrying and mount up!"

She turned on her heel, and stomped out of the waiting room, stopping to grab the rag and throw it at Vash's face.

Vash dodged it and the rag flew harmlessly behind him. "Now what?" he asked.

Calamity stroked her chin. "Tell me Vash, aside from jailbreak, have you ever actually intentionally committed a crime?"

Vash shook his head. "Not that I remember, no."

Calamity smiled. "Alright then. Tonight, we're going to make an honest outlaw of you."

* * *

Millie sat in the second-class lounge, Meryl still bound and gagged beside her. She turned to her old friend. "Will you promise to behave? I'll take off the ropes and the gag."

Meryl nodded. Mille removed the ropes and stepped back and Meryl pulled of the gag, fully expecting an outburst of anger. To her surprise, Meryl slumped back into her chair, despondent.

"He's got her. He's got her, and I can't do anything about it."

Millie put her arm around Meryl's shoulder and hugged her.

"Something wrong ladies? Perhaps I can help?"

Meryl and Millie looked up to see an old preacher dressed in black. A low black hat threw his face partially into shadow.

"No, we're fine thank you," Meryl said.

"Are you sure? The Lord can help you in your darkest hour."

Meryl nodded. "No, we don't need to burden you with our problems.

The old preacher nodded. "Well then, if I can't help you, perhaps you can help me. You see," he said as he removed his hat, revealing a pair of glowing eyes. "I wish to purchase some insurance."

Meryl's eyes widened and she reached for one of her derringers. Suddenly, the pair found themselves looking down the barrels of two cross-shaped pistols. "Don't. You may be fast, Miss Stryfe, but I assure you that I am much faster." Father Danil motioned with one of the pistols. "Brother Joseph! Brother Elija! Escort our guests to the hold." He turned around and glared at the two men who had suddenly appeared behind him. "Make sure you take good care of them, especially you Elija. I didn't think it was worth the effort to save Sisters Mary and Amy. I did not want them dead."

"She was unworthy Father. All are unworthy of the Lord's grace."

* * *

"Good morning, little spiderfly."

Nikki's eyes opened to see a face that looked eerily like her father's. Yet. it was cold, cruel, hateful. This man's hair was not the spiky blonde locks that she had pulled as a baby, instead it was a short platinum blonde, with a streak of black running along the back and sides.

Nikki looked up and took stock of her surroundings. Her wrists were bound behind her back, her legs tied together at the ankles, and a black strap bound her to the metal ledge she was lying on. The bare metal room shook up and down and Nikki felt a sense of movement. She could only assume that she was in a truck of some sort. Across from her, Knives sat on a wooden coffin.

"We've never been properly introduced," he said. "I'm your uncle Knives."

Nikki's eyes narrowed.

"I can see you're angry at me. Well, I don't know if I can blame you. I have tried to kill your parents at various points. But I'd like to put that all past us."

"You'd like to…what?"

"Put that all past us. You see, when I first heard about your existence, I must admit I acted a trifle… irrationally. I thought that you must be an abomination, a damnation in the eyes of nature."

"I take something changed your mind?"

Knives chuckled. "A few things. Your actions when the young Cavalryman had his knife at your throat. The way you acted. The idea that maybe your spider of a mother had drilled some proper realism into you. In other words, I began to see potential."

"In me? Please. I thought you saw me as 'tainted'."

"Maybe. But you might have more potential then Vash. He's gone for good if I can't convince him by now. So maybe you. Maybe I can still get you to see it my way. You've seen what humanity can do. You saw the mass graves at Lasuken, you saw how The Flock acts, you had Evans' knife right at your throat." He stood up and leaned close to Nikki's face. "So, are you willing to try and see it my way?"

Nikki spat in his face. "Screw you, I'm not what you're looking for."

Knives wiped the saliva off with his sleeve and shook his head. "Garbage. A pathetic hybrid that never should've existed, just as I thought." He reached for a glass and pulled out a knife. He turned Nikki over and slashed the knife across her palm, draining the blood into the glass. When it was a tenth full, he pulled the glass away and placed it on the ledge. He put his hand on Nikki's head and closed his eyes for a moment. Nikki grimaced as her cut sealed itself. A small streak of black appeared in her bangs.

"What did you do? Can you control people with your mind?"

Knives smiled. "Only other Plants, spiderfly. It's more of a connection than anything. But that doesn't really matter to you. You see, now that you've refused me, I'm only keeping you alive for two reasons. The first is an insurance against the almost certain interference of my brother. The other… well." Knives picked up the glass and rapped his knuckles on the coffin lid. It slid open and Martinez's hand reached out and grabbed the glass.

"He's called the Bloodsucker for a reason."

* * *

Lelia slid the glass off the picture frame and put the snap shot against the glass on the other side. The front door opened and Roger stepped in.

"Hey hon. What was so important that we needed to be roused from our beds at two in the morning?"

Roger sat down and began removing his boots. "It was from the car dealership, the one by the church. Seems someone had swiped two motorcycles."

Lelia slid the glass cover over the photograph and placed the frame on a shelf. Calamity, Nikki, Evans, and Jeremiah grinned back at her.

"Where did that photograph come from?" Roger asked.

"I found it in Calamity's room. Seems they all went for a midnight stroll. Do you think you'll ever find out who stole the motorcycles?"

Roger shook his head. "Sadly, I think this case will remain forever unsolved."

Lelia smiled. "Shame to put a black mark on your record like that."

Roger smirked. "I think I can cope."

* * *

Officially, word had not been passed down beyond the top brass that Evans was being brought back to fort in chains. Of course, the laws of gossip were still in effect, and the garrison and the surrounding town knew about it by the time Evans arrived.

Off in the shade, Colonel Landers and Major Allenby watched with interest. Evans was under Major Allenby's command, his direct command until a replacement for Captain Bartholomew could be found.

Short, stocky, clean-shaven with a crew-cut, he followed regulations, went by the rules, and in general drove those under his command out of their minds. He could be found every morning up before everyone, his uniform pressed so well that the men could shave on it's creases. The two books by his bedside table were a novel of historical fiction and the Cavalry regulations book.

Colonel Landers was there because he was a man that loved his troops. Each and every one of them, personally. He knew all of them, knew their families, and was always there with a smile and some extra food for those on guard. Aside from being Allenby's opposite in personality, he was his opposite in appearance. A bear of a man, at least six feet seven inches, he had a nicely trimmed moustache and braided hair down to the top of his back. The only book he had by his bedside table was the Bible.

"You don't seriously think he did it Allenby?"

Allenby shook his head. "Evans may be many things sir: brash, hard-headed, disrespectful; but a traitor he is not."

The military car rolled into the middle of compound and slowly braked to a halt. The doors opened and three guards emerged. After a second, Evans stepped from the back seat, his hands in chains, a blindfold around his eyes. One of the guards took Evans hands and started to lead him towards the stockade, while the other two kept the barrels of the rifles fixed on his head.

A fourth soldier got out of the car and approached General Braxler, who was standing in the middle of the compound. He handed him a clipboard and a pen. General Braxler signed off on the transfer form and threw it back at the soldier, who got back in the car and drove off to the garage.

"When can I see him?" General Braxler asked, staring at the ground.

"You can't sir. He's on trial in a matter of days. You aren't allowed to see him," Colonel Winchester said.

"God damn it, Winne! This isn't some random Cavalryman, this is my son! When can I see him?"

Colonel Winchester grabbed him by the arm and slowly lead him back to the interior of the fort. "I know sir. He's your son, and you can't make special exceptions for him. You haven't before, and you can't now. He wouldn't accept them."

* * *

"Is it really safe to just leave him in that cell?" a guard asked as he watched the door to Evans cell close.

"It's fine," his superior responded. "He can't actually teleport, it's just an illusion. A physical barrier stops him just like anyone else. And unless he's gained the ability to bore through six-inch solid steel, he'll be staying there."

Evans smirked as he heard the two. He had no intention of leaving. The door slammed shut, and he found himself alone in his cell. A bed, a toilet, a sink, and a mirror was all that he got. Evans supposed that he was lucky to get a mirror.

He heard the **clop-clop** of the guards' feet as the paced back and forth. Evans sighed. _That's probably the only sound I'm going to hear for the rest of my life, assuming they let me off with life imprisonment._

**I wouldn't say that so quickly Evans. You'll always have us.**

Evans grimaced. "Fuck off."

**Now, now son. Is that any way to talk to your mother?** Rai-Dei said.

"My mother's dead," Evans said, clutching his head.

**Of course she is**, Midvalley said. **I killed her myself.**

Evans slowly stood up from the bed and stumbled over to the sink. He turned on the faucet and threw some water in his face. _Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up_. He looked up into the mirror. In the reflection, three people stood behind him.

The first was a man in a dark suit and a pink shirt. He had a saxophone hanging from a shoulder strap. In front of him was a man dressed in loose fitting clothing with a fringed vest over it. A sword hung on his hip. In front of him, closest to Evans, was a woman in a trench coat and a wide-brimmed hat. A metallic eye-patch covered her right eye. She leered over Evans shoulder in the reflection.

**Now why do you need to resign yourself to a life in prison?** She asked. **Just use the Demon's Eye the moment they open the door and leave this place. It reeks of the Cavalry trash.**

Evans reached up and gingerly touched his left eye. Even the skin around felt different. Almost scaly. "Because you three would make me kill a couple of dozen people on the way out."

**Ahhh, so that's why you want to be locked up in here. You want to keep us locked away from humanity where we can't harm anyone using you. How noble.** Midvalley said.

**But hardly befitting a warrior. You're just running from us. Instead of facing us, you hide in a cell and just ignore us for the rest of time. ** Rai-Dei stroked his chin. **Perhaps if we made you kill more people, we could goad you into actually facing us?**

_Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up! Get out of my head!_

* * *

The door opened and Major Allenby stepped into the room. Evans was leaning over the sink, panting. "Well, well. I hardly expected to find you in that position." He closed the door. There was a definitive _clink_ as the guards slid the locks into place.

Evans stood up at attention and saluted. "Major Allenby sir, how may I help you?"

Major Allenby rose an eyebrow. "'How may I help you?' No verbal jab? No snide remark? No cigar smoke obnoxiously blown in my face? Lieutenant, are you feeling alright?"

"Perfectly fine, sir."

Major Allenby shook his head. "Hmm, obviously lying. No matter. I'm here, as you guessed, as your immediate superior to help you plan your defense at the trial."

"Immediate superior? What happened to Captain Bartholomew, sir?"

"He was transferred. Until his replacement can be found, I am the acting commander and your immediate superior. Now, shall we discuss the trial? Have you decided on any defense yet? Insanity might work, if you had actually done it."

Evans looked down at the floor. "I plan to plead guilty, sir."

Allenby walked over to the mirror and began inspecting his uniform in it. "Speak up soldier, I can't quite hear you. I just thought you said that you planned to plead guilty."

Evans looked up at Major Allenby. "I am pleading guilty, sir. I believe that if I plead guilty, they might show mercy and merely sentence me to life imprisonment."

Allenby continued to inspect himself in the mirror. "And why not try to fight it? You might be found innocent."

"What's the point? I'll almost certainly be foun-"

**SMACK!**

Evans couldn't get any further in his sentence before Major Allenby floored him with a right hook. He stood over Evans shaking his hand. "What. Is. Wrong. With. You. Boy? Usually at this point in the conversation we're screaming at each other over some petty difference over a trivial rule. At this point you should have driven the guards up the wall with your protests that you didn't do it, or at the very least some inane humming or whistling. Also, you're faster than me. Why the hell did you let me hit you?"

Evans slowly stood up. "I'm not allowed to strike a superior officer, and you have every right to punch me."

"You've never let the rules stop you before. Goddamn it Evans, what happened to your backbone? You may have been a snarky, insubordinate, loud-mouthed punk before, but that was better than this whiny incarnation of yourself! I seriously doubt you even know what you are being accused of, but you're willing to give up the ghost so quickly that it doesn't even matter!"

Evans sat on the edge of the bed. "Whatever. I'm better off hanging around in here. It's safer. For everyone. Hell, it's dangerous for you to be in here."

Major Allenby shook his head. "I give up. You obviously aren't going to start listening to me." He turned around and strode for the door. Evans stood up and saluted him as he left.

As Allenby started to bang on the door, he stopped before his fist reached it. "You know why I'm being so hard on you? It's because of your father. Because he's a hero. You have that potential in you as well, did you know that? If you'd just find your spine and quit being such a punk, you could save the world one day. Be like your dear old dad. And I know it's tough, fighting whatever demons you've got in you. Whatever demons only you can see with that eye of yours. And I know it'd just be easier to lock it away and never deal with it again. But you could be a hero. And heroes don't get that choice."

Allenby lowered his hand. "I see you gave away your dog-tags. I remember when I gave mine away. I remember it more clearly than my wedding, when I got them back. Fine Cavalry tradition, giving them away. How would she feel about you, I wonder? Like I said. You could be a hero. You just don't get that choice."

He pounded on the door, which slowly opened to reveal a gun barrel pointing at Evans. Allenby went left the cell and slammed the door.

**Well, wasn't he rude?** Dominique said.

* * *

Major Allenby closed the door behind him and sighed.

"I take it didn't go so well?" Colonel Landers asked.

"It's… like he's lost something. Whatever it was that made him into the obnoxious punk he was… it's gone. His fight, I guess. It's gone."

Colonel Landers sighed. "Don't tell General Braxler. Or Colonel Winchester for that matter. It's too much for them to worry about."

Major Allenby saluted. "Yes sir."

* * *

Later that day, a man met with his troops.

"Understand, lads, that this is our hour. We've been given a chance to do more than the Father ever asked us to. We've been given a chance to take it all."

"But we were told to keep them away from December, and nothing else. Why do this?"

"Because we can, soldier. Because I've smarted too long under the command of a man I could fight rings around. Think of the glory you will be bringing God, by taking down the greatest commander this heretical government has to offer!"

"When do we strike, sir?"

"Tonight."

* * *

Evans slept fitfully, his parents and Midvalley plaguing his dreams. He wasn't sure if it was really them invading his mind, or whether his tired subconscious could think of nothing but them.

A pounding at his cell door awoke him suddenly. He rolled out of his small bed and walked toward the door. It opened suddenly to reveal more darkness. A shadowy figure thrust something towards him. "Take this!" it whispered. It held a key in it's hand.

"Wha?"

"It's the key to your cell, stupid! Wait until daybreak, then come out and help! They'll think you're still locked safely in your cell!"

"Who will? The guards?"

"No, the insurgents!"

"What insurgents?"

"Just take the damn key!" The figure pressed the key into Evans hand, then closed the door. Evans heard the door locks slide into place.

**You do realize who it has to be?** Midvalley asked.****

Evans looked in the mirror. Five eyes other than his own looked back at him.

**Those foolish Christians, somehow trying to find their God on the path of slaughter.** Rai-Dei said.

**You do the same thing, Rai-Dei**. Dominique said.

**Yes, but I don't believe that I'm doing it in the name of justice or righteousness.**

**Why don't you fight off them, like the man asked? We'd be all to happy to help.** Dominique said, turning towards Evans.

Evans sat down on his bed, stared at the key in his hands, and tried to ignore the voices in his head.

"Do I have a choice? Was Allenby right? Could I really be a hero?"

* * *

Light filtered through the bars in the window. Evans stared at it, musing on everything he had heard.

_"This isn't you."_

_"Hardly befitting a warrior." _

"What happened to your backbone?" 

_"You could be a hero. You don't get that choice."_

_"Hero. You don't get that choice."_

_"You don't get that choice."_

Evans smiled slightly. "Have I been that much of an idiot? Damn, there must be something wrong with me."

He stood up and walked towards the door, glancing in the mirror as he passed.

Leaving, Evans? Decided to fight the good fight? Need a little fighting music to pump you up?

Evans shook his head. "Nah, I think I can handle that myself, thanks."

My son, do you really think you can do it without- 

"Don't call me son. You're not my father. My father is a far greater man than you'll ever be."

Now Evans, how can you say that? We're the only family you'll ever really have. They don't believe in you, they think you're a freak. We've always been with you, from the beginning. We're your real family.

Evans stood at the door of the cell, key in one hand, hat in the other. He put his hat on, unlocked the door, then turned to the mirror. He pulled his hat down over his right eye, staring at the three Gung-Ho Guns with his Demon's Eye.

"I already have a family."

He left the cell and slammed it shut.

Midvalley, Rai-Dei, and Dominique stepped from the mirror.

"Does he actually think he can ignore us?" Rai-Dei asked.

"No, I think he thinks he doesn't have to ignore you anymore."

A dark-skinned man stepped through a wall. He was dressed in a Cavalry uniform, with a saber at his side. Like the three before him, he glowed eerily. Two more people stepped through the wall behind him. A woman in a light colored coat and another man in a military uniform, a Lost Technology style pistol at his hip.

"And you would be?" Midvalley asked.

"James Braxler," The man with the saber said. He drew it slowly and pointed it at Rai-Dei.

Rai-Dei's hand flashed down to his katana. He drew it with blinding speed and dashed towards James Braxler, who caught in on his saber. Rai-Dei drew back and thrust the katana forward. James dodged the side and kicked Rai-Dei in the stomach. Rai-Dei fell backwards, flipped back up and brought his sword up above his head, parallel to the ground.

"Who are you?" Dominique asked.

"Didn't you hear my son?" The dark-skinned woman in the light coat asked. "He already has a family."

* * *

General Braxler stood in the middle of the compound, surrounded by the other officers. They, in turn, were surrounded by soldiers, all of whom were wearing black shirts under their Cavalry uniforms. In a makeshift cell in a corner of the fort, more black shirts held a large group of civilians from the village. A few children were crying for their mothers. One of the black shirts banged on the cell and told them that if they were good little Christians, God would make sure they lived through the day.

"So… this is what it takes to betray your commander and your country," General Braxler said.

"Exactly," a commanding voice said. Colonel Landers stepped onto the battlements and looked down on the officers. "God is the ultimate authority. My allegiance to him supercedes any supposed authority of yours.

Colonel Winchester looked up at the man with hatred, struggling against the chains on her wrists. "And why exactly did God have you do this?"

Colonel Landers smirked. "I don't believe the Father would like it if I told you. He didn't spend so much time integrating my men and I into this garrison just so you could find everything out."

General Braxler leaned over to Major Allenby and whispered, "Do you hear something?"

Major Allenby nodded. He blinked for a second. _Did the clouds just jump?_ "It sounded like whistling. It's gone now."

"Did you recognize the tune?"

Major Allenby grinned. "When Johnny Comes Marching Home?"

They suddenly realized that Colonel Landers and Colonel Winchester were still shouting at each other.

"Winnie! Unless you shut up this instant, I will kill a hostage!" Colonel Landers screamed. He held out his hand and started to chant. A ball of energy formed over his hand and started to swirl around it.

"What hostages?"

Colonel Landers looked towards the cell to find that it was completely empty. "What the…" the energy ball faded away.

Major Allenby looked up at the sky. _Yep, the clouds definitely jumped again._ "Has anyone besides me noticed that our chains are all cut?" he whispered.

"Major Allenby?" General Braxler whispered.

"Yes sir?"

"Shut up, will you? I'm trying to figure out the opportune moment."

"Shutting up sir."

As Major Allenby watched, the clouds jumped again and Evans suddenly appeared in mid-air in front of Colonel Landers. Before the man could duck, Evans caught him in a spinning back kick. The Colonel flew backwards and rolled to his feet, an energy ball floating above his hand.

"Would now be the opportune moment?" Colonel Winchester asked.

"Winnie, be quiet and take that man's gun."

* * *

Colonel Landers threw the ball of energy at Evans, who sidestepped it and charged at him, drawing a saber with his right hand. He slashed downward and across at Landers, who jumped backwards and began to chant again.

Evans suddenly disappeared, the clouds jumping again. He appeared behind Landers, who suddenly turned his palm around and shouted. A blast of force knocked Evans backwards. He pushed himself up and chuckled, pulling his hat down in front of his Demon's Eye.

"Not bad, traitor. I assume it was you who steamrolled me into that trial date?"

Colonel Landers nodded. "No hard feelings, but you knew far too much, and you could've brought the Cavalry down on the Flock."

Evans shrugged. "None taken, since that's exactly what I intend to do."

"Not if I kill you first."

Evans laughed again. "You're good, Colonel, and it seems that your magic might even counteract my Demon's Eye. Or maybe it's just because this wall is so narrow that there really is a limited amount of places I can reappear."

"I'm good? No lad, I have God on my side. I'm better."

Evans lifted his hat and stared at Colonel Landers with both eyes. "Oh really? Perhaps you've forgotten something." He raised the sword in his right hand. "I'm left handed." He spun the saber around his right hand, caught it in his left, and pointed it at Landers. "Care to dance again?"

Landers ginned. "Of course. It doesn't matter which hand you attack me with, God will see me prevail!" He held his hands forward. Two massive bursts of energy blasted out of them, obliterating the buildings in front of him. He held his hands down, breathing heavily. There was nothing in front of him. "That oughta do it. Just a pile of ash now. Hell, not even a pile."

Schink. 

Landers suddenly felt the cold touch of a metal edge on his neck.

"Care to try again?" Evans voice asked from behind him.

Landers hands trembled slightly as he reached into his pockets. Evans right hand suddenly shot around Landers' side and grabbed his wrist. He twisted Landers' wrist, and a loud **CRACK** rang through the air. Landers' screamed in pain and dropped the cyanide tablet. "Sorry," Evans said, "you need to tell me where the good Father Danil is going."

* * *

General Braxler sat on the steps and lit a cigar. His men, after being freed from the barracks, had cleaned up the black shirts rather easily. Colonel Landers suddenly fell next to him. General Braxler calmly drew a gun and pointed it at Landers' head.

"Can I borrow a cigar, dad?"

General Braxler reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a cigar. "Dad?"

Evans sat down on the steps above him. "Can I borrow a cigar, sir?" He took the cigar and his father's lighter, bit off the tip, and lit the cigar.

Colonel Winchester walked up, her long rifle over one shoulder. "Well, well, what do we have here? A traitor?" She brought her long rifle around and pointed it at Landers' head. "Now what shall we do with you?"

"Now hang on, Winnie," General Braxler said. "I think Mr. Landers' wishes to tell us more about this 'Father' of his who is so close to God and what he's planning to do."

"Screw you, General. I'm not telling you heathens anything. And don't think you can scare me with a death threat. If I die now, I will go to Heaven to be with my Lord and Savior."

"Ahh, perhaps I misspoke," the General said. "I meant to say that perhaps you'd like to tell Major Allenby. MAJOR ALLENBY! SERGEANT SCHRODER!"

Major Allenby and a pale man in his mid-thirties detached themselves from the mess of soldiers who were trying to restore order to the fort.

"Yes sir?"

General Braxler puffed on his cigar. "It's a nice day out. I think you and Sergeant Schroder should take Mr. Landers here for a walk. Be sure to get back in time for the meeting in two hours."

Major Allenby nodded. "Yes sir."

General Braxler put his elbow on his knee and rested his head on his hand. "And it's really quite hot out today, I would remove anything that might possibly indicate that you're associated with the Cavalry, to the point where you would technically be a civilian and not so bound by the rules. Don't worry, I'll swear you in again later."

Major Allenby grinned. "Yes sir. Sergeant?"

"Yessir?" Sergeant Schroder responded.

"Get my pruning shears. And see if you can borrow some Tabasco sauce from the kitchen."

Sergeant Schroder saluted, then ran off. Landers whimpered slightly as Major Allenby dragged him off in the direction of one of the darker corners of Ft. Backdraft.

General Braxler turned around and pointed at Evans with his cigar. "And you, you seem to actually comprehend what's going on. I want an understandable report as to what in God's name is going on, and I want it an hour ago. Feel up to it?"

Evans nodded. "Of course sir." He stood up and started walking towards the fort.

"Evans!" Colonel Winchester called after him. "What kind of threat are we dealing with?"

Evans stopped and looked around. "Omega Class. The end of humanity. One way or another." He put the cigar back in his mouth and smiled. "Nothing we can't handle."

* * *

Floating above the fort, several ghosts congregated, watching the soldiers clean up. One of them slapped his palm against his head.

"What's wrong?" the woman in the light colored coat asked.

"I was kind of hoping when Phillip married you your kids wouldn't be as… cocky as the rest of us were."

The woman in the white coat smiled. "Evans? Not cocky? Don't be ridiculous. He's a Braxler."

* * *

Evans: It isn't easy being the child of some legendary figure. Believe me, I know. Even if my father hadn't been one of the heroes of the Neon War, I'd still have to contend with my great-grandfather founding the damn Cavalry. Luckily for me, my father new what it was like to live in the shadow of a great one, and made sure I didn't have to deal with some of the more unpleasant aspects of it. But what about those who grow up in the shadow of not a great hero, but a great villain? Even if that villain isn't the evil one he's made out to be, always hearing your father talked about as a monster has to take a toll on a person. They have to start to wonder, "Am I a monster as well?" Next Chapter: Daughter of a Legend.


	24. The Daughter of a Legend

Phew. Can't believe it's been a year since I started this thing. Amazing, isn't it? Standard disclaimers apply. I neither own Trigun or it's characters.

* * *

The people of December city didn't see it coming. How could they? How could anyone foresee it? How could anyone see long dead technology, feral beasts, and walking corpses battering down their doors?

How could anyone foresee the army of clergymen? How could they have known that this army wouldn't save them, but would shove them aside, shoot them, kill them, just for getting in their way, or holding the wrong job, or marrying the wrong person?

Who could have seen Armageddon itself bearing down on the sleeping city?

How could they have seen it coming?

* * *

Johnny sighed and looked to Legato. "I don't suppose you could hold her with your mind powers or something? She's getting quite antsy over here." 

Legato stared down from the platform he was standing on. "Johnny, I have quite a few better things to do with my time then hold on to the spiderfly for you. Just hold a little while longer, and you won't have to worry about holding on to her anymore."

Johnny sulked. "But I wanna fight. Ophelia's out there somewhere… I know she is."

**Then tie it up. **Blayne sent. **Bind the spiderfly so it can't get away, then go out and find the mute witch who held your heart.**

"Will you quit calling me that!?" Nikki screamed. "I have a name!"

"No," Legato said. "You don't."

Nikki started to speak, but found her throat constricted.

"You don't have a name, and do you want to know why?"

Nikki tried to shout at him, to scream some curse, but her vocal chords where still not under her power. All she could do was stare up at the blue-haired man, at his single golden eye that regarded her with such disdain.

"You do not have a name because you do not deserve a name. Because you are not a person. Even humans, their lives not worth the sand you are standing on, are people. They were meant to exist, even if that existence turned out to be a failure. Thus, they are worthy, of nothing else, of a label. You? You are a wretched creature, not worthy of anything. Not the clothes you're wearing on your back, not the life your spider mother and your misguided father gave to you, and you are especially not worth a name, because that would recognize you as a person. And that is something I cannot bring myself to do."

The shadows cast by the defunct Plant began to swirl. Martinez stepped from the shadows, looking at his pocket watch. The shadows closed behind him and he snapped the watch shut. "What a nice night for a battle. The Master has finished cleaning up the remaining scum by the east block. How many more Plants do we need to power the Teraformer?"

"One," Legato said.

"Just one?"

Legato nodded.

"Why not this one?" Martinez asked.

"It's defunct," Johnny said. "The Plant died, possibly a virus, possibly old age. Who cares? There's nothing in there any more."

Martinez looked to Johnny. "Heh. Poor Johnny, you look bored. Guard duty wearing you out? It's too bad that…". Martinez's gazed swept up to the defunct Plant. "Now there's an interesting idea."

Blayne's large form dropped from the platform. She turned to stare up where Martinez was looking. **What is? Oh. That _is_ an interesting idea…**

The four stared up at the defunct Plant.

"What?" Nikki asked. "What are you… oh God no. Please, not that. Don't do that."

Martinez put his hand to his ear. Nikki noticed that he was wearing a small metal hoop in his ear. "Right away, sir." He gestured slightly, and the shadows behind him started to swirl. Knives stepped out, reloading his black Long Colt.

"Why are you all just standing there?" He looked up at the defunct Plant they were staring out. "We have… now that, is a very interesting idea." He snapped his Long Colt shut. "A very interesting idea indeed." He turned to Nikki. His eyes were glowing ice blue. They weren't human eyes. They never were human's eyes, but now they weren't even Plant's eyes. They were something else. Devil's eyes.

"I wonder what will happen."

* * *

Two trails of dust blazing through the desert, following at the heels of two motorcycles 

One bike leaned to the right and approached the other. Jeremiah leaned over and shouted, "Slow down!"

Wolfwood glanced at his son. "We're a good half an ile from December City! Why slow down!"

"Because there are a lot of guys with guns up ahead."

Vash turned to Jeremiah. "Are you sure?"

"Hey, can you see the dark?" Calamity asked from behind Jeremiah. "'Cause he can."

The two motorcycles slowed to a halt as their headlights revealed twelve men decked out in Cavalry gray pointing automatic rifles at them.

"Special Cavalry operation gents," a man with sergeant's stripes said, "you might want to turn around. We can lend you some camping supplies for the night if ya need it."

Vash stepped off of Wolfwood's motorcycle. "Just let us through," he said. "Don't get in our way."

"Look buddy, I don't care what reasons you have for going into December City, it ain't happening."

Vash started to approach the sergeant. "Don't get in our way," he repeated.

"Sir, I said-"

The sergeant suddenly found himself staring down the barrel of Vash's Long Colt. "I said, don't get in my way."

Wolfwood reached into his pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it. "Well Vash, this isn't a side of you I've seen in a while. What happened to the happy-go-lucky clown?"

Vash closed his eyes and sighed. "I failed the two people I love the most in this world, Wolfwood. I can't afford to play the fool any more."

The sergeant lowered his gun slightly. "Vash the Stampede? Father Nicholas D. Wolfwood?"

"I see our names precede ourselves," Wolfwood said. "Tell me, are you going to try and catch him? On any other night, I would tell you to go ahead and try, but tonight, I actually fear for your safety."

"Lower your rifles!" the sergeant shouted. "Father and Mr. Wolfwood, Miss Shriver, Mr. Vash, would you all please come with me? The General is expecting you."

* * *

A sister of the Flock fired off another burst, then ran for cover as the large robot shot laser fire in return. She rolled behind a building, leaned around the corner, and shot the robot in the head. She sighed, put down her rife, and unscrewed her canteen. 

A pair of hands reached from the darkness, grabbed her by the shoulders, then dragged her back into the shadow. There was a brief struggle, than silence.

"It's almost disturbing how well you found a match for my size," Zarlina said.

"I'm very observant," Raifen replied.

"You were observing her measurements?"

"Yes, but I was thinking of you while I was doing it."

Zarlina chuckled. Her laugh was low and raspy, as if her throat had forgotten how to laugh. Or had never even known. "Aww, that's almost sweet."

* * *

"There's major infighting going on here and here," Major Allenby said, jabbing at an overview map of December City. "Evans' scouting report says that most of the survivors are holding out in the Bernardelli Insurance Society complex here in uptown." 

General Braxler nodded. "Do we have any idea what type of perimeter guards there might be?"

Colonel Winchester stepped forward. "I took a drive around the perimeter of the town and tried to use my scope to search for any visible guards. Both sides seemed to have abandoned the outer perimeter, but I'm almost certain it gets worse and worse further in. I don't think they were expecting any outside resistance."

General Braxler studied the map. "Well they wouldn't would they? They've somehow managed to sever all radio and satellite contact into December City. They don't expect anyone to come riding over the hill."

"They're expecting us."

General Braxler looked up to see Vash the Stampede standing in front of him, tangerine colored sunglasses covering his eyes. Behind him, both Wolfwoods were leaning their Cross Punishers against a jeep. Calamity sidled up next to Vash and looked around her.

"First time I've been around so many Cavalrymen without them trying to kill me," she mumbled.

"Vash the Stampede, I presume?"

Vash nodded.

Braxler grinned. "We've met before. Alliance Hill ring any bells?"

"…A few."

"So," General Braxler said, "which one is expecting you? The crazy priests? Or is it your brother?"

"Both," Wolfwood said as he stepped into the tent. "But how do you know about that?"

Evans was suddenly leaning against one of the wooden posts holding up the tent. "That would be me."

Vash raised an eyebrow. "We trusted with you a secret. This is what you did with that information?"

Evans nodded. "Damn right."

"You brought them here so that they can get involved in this so that more people can die? I thought you had learned something from me and Nikki."

General Braxler stood up. "I believe he had. But Vash, from what I've heard, you're always running around, trying to keep the enemy away from us." He approached Vash. "You can't do this forever, Vash. You can't keep fighting darkness alone. It's time you let humanity fight for itself." A sudden flash and Braxler's saber was at Vash's throat. "And we are capable of doing so."

Vash smiled. "I dunno, I'm not used to working with others. I tried it twenty years ago, and my buddy got killed."

Wolfwood put his hand on Vash's shoulder. "I was willing to give me life back then, I'm still willing to give it now."

Major Allenby regarded the two. "You're awfully flippant for a man with a sword at his throat."

General Braxler pulled his saber away and sheathed it. "Well, in his defense Major, he did have a gun to my chest."

Vash slowly pulled away his left arm and let the gun slide back in.

General Braxler nodded, then returned to his map. "Well boys, I don't know how much you know about warfare aside from single combat, but I have to say that this may be worst battle field I have ever seen. I can say with definite certainty that I do _not_ want to fight here. So I won't."

Calamity stuck her hands in her pockets. "What? After that overly-dramatic speech and the overly-dramatic sword draw, you're freakin abandoning the fight?"

Braxler chuckled. "You misunderstand, Miss Calamity. I want to fight this fight; I just don't want to fight it here. I'm proposing we change the battlefield."

"How do we do that?" Jeremiah asked, ducking into the tent.

"Your girlfriend's good with explosives," Colonel Winchester said. "Why don't you ask her?"

"Who said she was my girlfriend? OW!"

Calamity glared at him.

"I'm just saying I don't know if we've advanced-OW! Dad?"

Evans lunged across and slapped his hand across Jeremiah's mouth. "Shut up while you're ahead, buddy. And it was me. I'm sorry if that was incorrect. Which it's not, right?" He turned to Calamity, who nodded.

Suddenly, Vash screamed in pain and fell to his knees, clutching his head. Major Allenby grabbed him by the arm and helped him slowly to his feet.

Vash's sunglasses fell down the bridge of his nose. For a moment the assembled officers could see pain in his eyes, but it was quickly covered up by rage. His eyes began to slowly glow an icy blue. "He's… he's hurting her. He's killing her!"

Evans' eyes narrowed. "He's killing who?"

* * *

"Well… that was interesting." 

"Extremely. Did you know that when a human is placed inside a Plant bulb and the power is turned on, nothing happens to them? And we all know what happens to one of my kind when it is trapped inside one of these infernal things. But when the Spiderfly is placed inside? It hurts more than any of us can possibly imagine. Nature itself rejects her."

Martinez moved a few controls on a panel and the bulb opened. He tossed her Long Colts in. Johnny followed it with the guitar.

"The inner glass is bullet proof." Martinez said. "There's only one way I can think of off the top of my head for you to break through it.

"And that's a way you will never take," Legato added.

Martinez flipped a few switches and the gate started to close.

Knives stood in front of the closing door and knelt down in front of Nikki as she looked up at him.

"You will never take that route, because it would mean admitting that you aren't human. It would mean admitting… that I'm right."

* * *

Danil struck a match against a wall and lit a cigarette. Smoking was the only vice he allowed himself, and he rarely allowed it. He shook out the match and approached Millie and Meryl, who were tied to a stone pillar holding up a building. 

"Still not talking, ladies? You can trust us, can't you? We don't seek to destroy the human race, just the sinners." He gently lifted Meryl's chin and stared into her blue-gray eyes. "Now that I think on it, you aren't among the sinners. Whose to say you choose to bear the child of a false angel? Perhaps I was wrong, perhaps he forced himself upon you. Perhaps you kept the baby purely out of sympathy. Did you enjoy the act, Miss Stryfe? I don't think you did. I think he forced himself on you to create a miserable offspring to continue his bloodline. You just happened to be there. You could not be blamed for submitting to him, what else could you do? I apologize for persecuting you early. I had not thought about what pain you must have gone through under the Stampede."

Meryl snarled and tried to kick Danil, who stepped back slightly. "I seem to have struck a nerve. You enjoyed it, didn't you? You enjoyed the act, you enjoyed carrying the creature, and you enjoyed raising it. You enjoyed it all. Now, a question to my disciples," Danil said, turning around to face Joseph, Ophelia, and Elija. "Who is more sinful, the Stampede or the Insurance Woman?"

Joseph smiled. "Easy."

Ophelia nodded. "The Stampede."

Danil smiled. "Very good. But why?"

Elija looked up. "Because it is a creature of sin. No matter how much a person sins, some part of it will always remain clean. Nothing is clean about the Plants, the false angels responsible for our fall to this planet."

Danil nodded. "Excellent. I've taught you all very well. Now, to the business at hand. There are two more Plants that we can take, while we only need one more to power the Teraformer. Since I am quite paranoid, we will be taking both. Our main forces are busy fighting off the wolves, robots, and ungodly undead of Knives' forces, so we will have to do it. Joseph, are you willing to go to the one on the east side of town alone? There's little fighting going on."

Joseph bowed. "Whatever you ask, Father."

Danil nodded. "Good. Ophelia? Come with me. Elija, watch the hostages."

Elija bowed and the other three started to leave. Elija was about to turn to Millie and Meryl when Danil's voice stopped him. "Oh Elija?"

Elija turned around, "Yes Fa- urk!"

He suddenly found Danil lifting him off the ground by the throat. "I know your penchant for killing. I know your belief that all are unworthy of salvation. I understand this. But you will not _touch_ either of them until I tell you otherwise. This operation is too important to jeopardize, and I will not let God's work be halted because you killed our only control over Chapel the Peacemaker and Vash the Stampede, do you understand?"

Elija nodded slowly, and Danil slowly let him down. Elija bowed, then turned to Millie and Meryl and smiled. Danil turned on his heel and left.

"Don't cry Meryl," Millie suddenly said.

Meryl sniffed. "I wasn't crying Millie."

Millie smiled. "Of course you weren't. I just said that because we've got hope now."

"What new hope could we have now?"

"A knife just appeared in my hand."

Meryl looked up slightly. "Could it be… Lieutenant?"

* * *

"Are you sure this is such a good idea?" Colonel Winchester asked. 

"Of course. My son sneaks Calamity in with that ugly-ass eye of his. She plants explosives at the appropriate places, comes back and sets 'em off. We have our ideal battle ground for an urban invasion. In the meantime, Vash, Nick, and Jeremiah make a frontal assault to distract both sides. They seem to think that Danil and Knives will let them through, so they'll be busy with them. Then, when the dust has settled, we strike."

"But why send the outlaw?" Major Allenby asked. "Can we really trust her? Why couldn't we use our own demolitions experts?"

"Because," General Braxler said as he raised a pair of binoculars to his eyes, "she knows more about urban demolition than the rest of our boys. Now, go tell the troops to get ready. We attack the instant the girl hits the switch on the bombs."

Major Allenby saluted, then ran off.

Colonel Winchester raised her enormous rifle up and peered through the scope. "I've still got a bad feeling about this, Phillip."

General Braxler smiled. "C'mon Winnie. Have I ever let you down before?"

"Yes."

"Alright, have I ever let you down in matters of war before?"

* * *

Legato cocked his head to the side, as if hearing something from a great distance. 

**Master?**

**Yes, Legato?**

**Vash the Stampede is approaching.**

**Hmm, excellent. Tell Blayne to call off her wolves.**

Legato turned to his cousin. **Tell your pack not to attack the Stampede.**

Blayne nodded. **I would never have them touch such perfection.** **Flawed as the Stampede may be compared to the Master, I would not destroy such beauty.**

* * *

Calamity stood up and wiped her hands on her coat. "That's the last of them." 

Evans looked at his watch. "Well, despite making a quick stop to give Millie and Meryl that knife, we're still on time."

"Why couldn't we just have freed them?"

"With all of them there? With that creepy priest there? Did you look into his eyes? No, they would have realized. And they would have found me. I don't know how… but he would've found me. Alright, I'll take you back. I've got something else to do."

Calamity shook her head. "I'm not going back. There's still something else I have to settle. With my old family."

Evans sighed. "Alright, I understand. Just remember to blow the-"

"I will. You go back and tell them I got away or something."

Evans shook his head. "They aren't actually expecting me back. The officers know about Legato, but the enlisted men know nothing. He's too frightening. If they knew that death awaited them in a white trench coat, they might not fight. I wasn't just sent here to help you set the explosives, I was sent to take him out."

Calamity raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly are you going to do that?"

Evans sighed. "I… think I have a way. God help me if I'm wrong."

* * *

Nikki sat down in the bulb and hugged her knees to her chest. She stared out at Legato and Blayne patrolling the bulb outside. Legato seemed to be messing with the Flock members who did not have any protection against him. 

"Monster," she mumbled.

"He's right you know," a voice said.

Nikki looked up to see the ethereal form stepping through the air and into the bulb. Tall, with dark skin and long black hair, he looked very familiar.

"Lasuken?" Nikki asked.

The man nodded. "Lasuken. That's the last time we met."

"Who the hell are you supposed to be?"

The man shrugged. "If I felt like being annoying, I would tell you to ask me who I was. But I don't have time. I was Dr. Ravenflight, the proponent, designer, and director of Project SEEDS. Nowadays… nowadays I watch after humanity."

Nikki laughed mirthlessly. "You're here to watch after humanity, and you just told me that my uncle is right? Way to give me a pep talk."

"He was right though. I don't think he meant it as help, but it can be if you let it."

Nikki looked up. "How? How can admitting… that, possibly help me?"

"Because if you admit it, you can get out of this glass prison. If you admit it, you can fight."

* * *

Johnny stood up from the devices and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

"Still wearing the glasses, Johnny?"

Johnny shrugged. "Only for delicate work like this, I guess." He turned around to see Ophelia floating behind him. She held a tarot card pack in her right hand and a small device in her left.

"I don't suppose you'd consider hooking this component up for me?" She asked.

Johnny laughed. "Of course, luv. Hand it over."

Ophelia tossed the component over and Johnny caught it with one hand. He turned around and began hooking it up.

"Thanks. Kind of silly to fight now."

"Oh, of course. It'd be rude to start the party until all the guests had arrived."

Ophelia shuffled her deck and glanced around. "You think Clarissa will show up as well?"

Johnny stood up and rolled his neck. "Oh, it's not Clarissa anymore. It's Calamity."

"I wonder why the insistence on the new name?"

Calamity suddenly appeared behind her. "It's a symbol. It shows that I've left you two behind."

Ophelia shrugged. "Symbols? Is that all it is? A symbol?"

"Symbols are powerful," Johnny said. "Believe me, I hang around with a vampire these days. Symbols are powerful."

Ophelia grinned. "I guess so. Still, not time to start the part yet."

"What… what are you talking about?"

Ophelia slowly rotated in mid-air. "All the guests in our little group may have arrived, but the guests of honor still aren't here. We can't start until _all_ the guests have arrived."

* * *

A Flock member stood up and fired a laser blast at the moving corpses that were slowly shambling towards them. A few corpses raised their guns and returned fire. The brother ducked behind a wall. He turned to the other brothers and sisters with him. 

"The unholy dead are still coming my brethren. Fear not though! Though they may be persistent, they're hardly invincible."

A sister broke apart from the pack and stood in front of the man. He stared into her orange eyes, almost perplexed at how sickly she looked. "Are you all right sister? Perhaps you should have stayed back?"

The sister put her hand on the brother's cheek. "I couldn't stay back. Not for something like this. I just… I just want you to promise me that we'll make it."

The man smiled. "There's nothing to worry about, I assure you that, that. AAAAAHHHHHH!" He started to writhe in pain and fell to the ground. He looked towards his brethren for help, but they were all already dead or on their way, coughing up blood, screaming in pain as poison coursed through their bodies.

Zarlina nodded, pulled on her gloves, and ran on to find another group of religious zealots.

* * *

Joseph walked through the empty city streets, hands in the pockets of his multi-colored coat, singing softly. The Plant loomed up in front of him. 

"I wore my coat, with golden lining."

He stopped suddenly. He held up his hand and a flash of light illuminated the darkness. Before Raifen could hide, Joseph drew his pistol and fired at him. Raifen rolled to the side and threw a shiruken at Joseph, knocking the gun out of his hand.

Joseph laughed and drew his long sword from the sheath on his back. "Oh good, I thought this was going to be boring. Still with the Gung-Ho Guns, man of shadow?"

Raifen slowly pulled his sword from its sheath. "No. I am here on my own interests, man of light."

"You've been in the shadows too long. Away from the truth of God's light, you lost your way. You won't even come out of the shadows after leaving evil. You have to be dragged out into the light. Allow me to remove that blindfold, and show you the truth and beauty of Heaven's light."

"No," Raifen said. He pulled his blindfold down from his eyes. "I can do that myself."

* * *

"See, Knives was right. You aren't human. That's nothing to be ashamed of though. We can't all choose what we're born as. We can only choose what to do with our life." 

"Thanks. Very helpful. Nature still rejects me. I wasn't meant to exist, plain and simple."

The spirit shook its head. "Man, you're a tough nut to crack. Okay, listen. There's a spirit for every living thing, can you wrap your head around that?"

"For every individual thing?" Nikki asked.

"No, no. For every type of living thing. A spirit for wolves, a fox spirit, a thomas spirit, a dog spirit, etc. Humanity is no different. I currently am filling that role. Every once in a while the spirit of humanity gets a little bored with it. Someone else takes over. I'm sure it'll be the same with Plants once Tessla gets tired of it. It's a hard job, watching over an entire species."

"Your point?"

"My point?" the spirit said. He kneeled in front of her. "My point is that every living thing has a right to exist. The demons created by the vampire have a right exist, the Plants, made by man, have a right to exist. And the hybrids have a right to exist." He held placed his hands together and held them up in front of Nikki. "Look at this."

Nikki stared at the glowing light in the spirit's cupped hands. "What's this?" she asked.

"The spirit of your kind," the ghost said as it faded away.

"The spirit of my kind? My kind? So… I guess, we are meant to exist." Nikki started to chuckle. "I guess it's kind of obvious. If I weren't meant to exist, would I have lasted this long?"

She stood up and looked around the bulb. "So… how do I get out? I guess I could Angel Arm my way out, but that would probably cause way too much damage in the process. God only knows what'd get caught in the blast."

"Not as powerful."

Nikki spun around. "Who said that? That you Dr. Ravenflight?"

"Lower power."

"Who's there?"

"Little half-Plant. Keep the power low."

Nikki strapped on her guitar and slowly drew her Long Colts. "A lower powered Angel Arm? It could still level the city!"

"Save us, half-Plant. Save us from the one who calls us brother, and the one who seeks to do God's work. Not a weak Angel Arm. Angel Blade."

"Angel Blade."

"Angel Blade."

"Angel Blade."

* * *

Legato surveyed the town below him as he paced the catwalk on the Plant. He ran a hand over the fences, stopping at each post. The posts were new, an added conceit of December City to remind the rest of the Planet that, while January City might be the seat of government, December City was where the money was. They were about waist high and came to a point. The exception being the post in the center, which was about neck high and ended with a small blade. Legato ran his fingers along it and smiled when a faint trickle of blood dripped from the tips of his fingers. 

"I wonder what they meant by this flourish? Perhaps a statement to all those who would challenge December City's might. As if it were saying 'Come and take us.'" Legato chuckled softly. "The irony is almost sickening."

Suddenly Evans appeared in front of Legato. He rushed forward, pushed Legato up against the wall, and brought his face up to Legato's. 

"Look at me, you son of a bitch, look at _me_."

Legato suddenly found himself staring into Evans' Demon's Eye. He was almost drawn into it, into its repulsiveness, its reptilian appearance. Evans pushed away from Legato and stumbled back. He looked up expectantly at the blue-haired man, his hand covering the Demon's Eye.

Legato blinked to clear his vision. Somehow, he felt… less aware. "What did you do?" he asked.

Evans chuckled. "Did it work? The Demon's Eye can hypnotize all five senses. Or, theoretically, completely block out one sixth sense."

Legato began to slowly clap as he approached Evans. "Very good. Very good indeed. Did your mother tell you that one? Did she figure out how you could succeed where she had failed? She tried to pull that trick herself once, a long time ago."

"Sorry, haven't seen hide nor hair of Rai-Dei, Dominique, or Midvalley for a while now. Can't say I know quite for sure what happened to them, but my theory is that the Reaper caught up with them. They've been brought to the punishment that they worked so hard to avoid."

Legato shrugged. Suddenly he rushed Evans, caught him in the stomach with a low uppercut, and threw him to the side.

Evans rolled to a kneeling position just in time to see Legato frown in concentration as he pulled the long metal post. He spun it around and rested behind his neck across his shoulders.

"Shit," Evans said. "I was kind of counting on you being a wuss without your powers."

Legato smirked slightly. "Only a great fool relies on one weapon alone." He dashed forward and brought the spear around for a quick stab the stomach.

Evans stood up, drew his saber, and blocked the strike. "You know," he said as he drew another sword from his belt, "that's pretty good advice."

* * *

Danil walked along the lower catwalk and stared up above him at Johnny and Ophelia's meeting. He wasn't overly surprised to see them there. No more when they didn't start to fight immediately. He had, after all, told Ophelia not to. 

"Cold night," a voice said.

Danil nodded and huddled his coat around him. "Very cold. Aren't you freezing in that outfit?"

"These suits are surprisingly warm," Knives responded, looking out over the city.

Danil nodded and let his gaze sweep over the city as well. He pulled out another cigarette and lit it. "Care for one?" he asked, offering the pack without looking at Knives.

Knives shook his head, keeping his gaze locked on the city. "Smoking? A human vice. I like to think I'm above such a sin."

Danil chuckled. "A sin? I guess it could be considered as such. A vice made by man. Just as we made you, our own spiritual downfall."

"Mankind making its own worst enemy. A poetic justice in that."

A sudden blur of motion, and both men were staring at each other down the barrels of their guns.

"So, it finally comes down to this. To activate our devices, all we have to do is hit the power button and select the correct circuit to direct the energy through, but obviously neither of us is going to let the other do that."

"It was inevitable, really. It had to come to this. Just the two of us. All the warfare, the circumvention, the subterfuge, all working to this point. This moment. This gunfight."

"Perhaps we should just have started by doing this. We could have saved a lot of time that way."

"Perhaps. But that wouldn't have been as fun."

Knives right hand shot out to the side and opened up to let the gun slide out. At the same time, Danil's left hand reached inside his coat, pulled out another cross shaped pistol, and aimed it to his side.

"Come on out," Danil said, his eyes starting to glow.

"We know you're there," Knives said.

From the darkness, Vash and Wolfwood emerged from the shadows. Wolfwood pulled the cigarette from his mouth and threw it the ground. Jeremiah followed them, his Cross Punisher resting across his shoulders.

"Ahh, my wayward students return. Did you learn much while away, Born-again? Did you learn to hate the Plants while in their employ, Peacemaker?"

"Learn to hate?" Wolfwood asked. "Funny, I seem to remember the Savior talking about love a lot. I must have missed that part of the Bible. I mean, I did sort of skim it."

"I rather believe words are useless at this point," Martinez said, walking along the underside of a catwalk. He looked down at Knives and Danil, then looked up at Johnny, Ophelia, and Calamity. "We've all already decided our positions, there is no use trying to convince anyone any differently. What we do now is fight, prove that our opinions are the correct ones. But understand this," Martinez said as he stopped walking and stared at Jeremiah. "I have been working far too long to have any of you screw this up for me." He reached up and brushed the small cross-shaped scar on his cheek. "I still owe you something, don't I, Chapel the Born-Again?"

"A moot point though," Danil said. "All it would take is a word from me, and the lovely insurance ladies go on to meet their final judgment." Danil leaned his head to the side. "Wait, what did you say Eilja?"

Knives chuckled. "The final failing of the humans. My hostage won't be so easily-"

Suddenly, a bright light flashed from across the town. Blinding light emerged from one of the bulbs in downtown.

"What… what is this light? It's not Joseph!"

"She couldn't have! She never would have admitted the truth!"

* * *

Legato and Evans stared at the bulb as the light inside grew steadily stronger and stronger. __

_Schick!_

_Schink!_

A diagonal circular cut appeared around the bulb and the top half slowly slid down towards them. The pair jumped backwards as the bulb crashed down to the ground. Nikki stood in the center of the ruined bulb, both arms transformed into giant organic blades.

As her arms started to revert back to their human form, Blayne leapt up from nowhere onto the catwalk and pounced on Nikki. Nikki threw herself backward and began to fire at Blayne the instant her guns reformed.

Evans charged at Legato with a double overhead chop, which Legato blocked with his improvised spear. "Did you think I came alone?" Evans snarled.

* * *

Calamity brought out the detonator and stared at the ones she once called brother and sister. "The guests of honor are here," she said. 

Johnny grinned. Metal flowed down from the studs in his arms and formed itself into knives. "Time to start the party?"

"Oh, now big brother. You know that the party doesn't really start until the party crashers arrive."

So saying, Calamity flipped up the cover of the detonator and thumbed the switch.

* * *

Dozens of explosions ripped through the town, toppling buildings. Inside the Bernardelli Insurance Society complex, mothers hushed their children as the remaining survivors continued to fight off the ever-approaching end. Thousands of people drew their guns to fight off the enemy. Hundreds of people screamed, "CCCCHHHHAAAARRRRGE!" as they raced down towards the city. The clock tower in the center of town struck twelve. Its low peals ringing out over everything. 

**BONG **

**BONG **

**BONG **

**BONG **

**BONG**

**BONG**

**BONG **

**BONG**

**BONG**

* * *

Vash: I used to claim to know where the start of all this was. Now… now I'm not sure this mess has just one beginning. So many different paths, starting all over time, all over the universe, leading to this one place, this one time. No matter the outcome… I can promise you one thing, Rem. I will take care of them. I will take care of all of them. I can promise you that tonight, under these five moons, it ends. Next Chapter: Grand Finale. 


	25. Grand Finale

I neither own Trigun, nor the lyrics to "Any Dream Will Do", which were used in the previous chapter.

In case you didn't notice, and epilogue follows immediately after this chapter.

* * *

Knives and Danil jumped to the side as the grenade came flying from Wolfwood's Cross Punisher. It hit the walkway and exploded, knocking Calamity and Johnny off their feet up above. Wolfwood leapt up and dashed forward, Vash following behind him. Martinez pushed down from the walkway he had been standing under, shot through the fire, and landed kneeling. He suddenly shot forward towards Jeremiah, who had brought his Cross Punisher around and opened fire at the vampire.

Martinez flew backwards from the gunfire, then leapt to his feet. He rolled his neck and stared at Jeremiah. The bullet wounds were already healed. "That doesn't work on me. See, it's got to be the actual cross that touches me."

"I know," Jeremiah said, flipping switches on his Punisher. The large gun _clanked_ as it exchanged ammo. "That was just to slow you down."

* * *

Nikki emptied all her bullets into Blayne as she fell back onto the catwalk behind her. Blayne flew over her and hit the ground. Nikki winced as she felt the guitar, but pushed the thought aside as she reloaded her guns. She walked down the stairs, keeping both guns trained on the body.

"Did… did I kill her?"

Blayne suddenly leapt up at Nikki, who dodged to the side and fired into Blayne's side. Blayne hit the ground and slid to a halt on all fours. She growled at Nikki.

"What the hell are you?" Nikki asked.

**Werewolf. I'm a werewolf, spiderfly.**

Nikki nodded, then ran off into the night. Blayne growled, fell on all fours, and tried to follow, still not used to her wolf form.

* * *

The Flock was taken completely by surprise. They were told that they would have to fight wolves, machines, undead. Mindless things, incapable of strategy or trickery, only dangerous for their power and numbers. They weren't told that they would be attacked from the outside, sniped from rooftops, cornered, surrounded, and out maneuvered.

Knives' forces were better off, but not by much.

"Why aren't the wolves attacking?" A sniper shouted.

"Why don't you ask them?" Colonel Winchester snapped back. She sighted a spider-like robot through her scope, held her breath, and squeezed the trigger. The force of the bullet threw the robot into a pile of rubble, sparks flying from the bullet hole.

"Maybe we killed the alpha male or something? Like if you cut off the head you kill the snake?"

"It's an alpha female, and I think she's very much alive. I think the wolves would know how to deal with their leader dying."

"Then what's wrong?"

"Let me ask you this, corporal, which is more frightening to you? A dead officer, or an officer who refuses to give any orders? DOWN!"

Colonel Winchester's sniper group grabbed their rifles and ducked behind the chimney and ramparts of the roof they were on as laser fire flew over their heads.

* * *

Raifen's blade flashed in the light of the few standing street lamps as it sliced upwards across Joseph's chest. Joseph met the blade with his. Sparks flew from their swords as they tried to break through the other's block. Joseph growled and quickly backstepped. Raifen's blade flew upwards as Joseph's sword moved out of its way. Before Raifen could regain control of his katana, Joseph had reversed his momentum and was rushing him with a shoulder tackle. Raifen leapt up and leapfrogged over Joseph, smacking him the back with the flat of his sword.

Joseph tripped, rolled along the ground, and came up facing Raifen. He moved his sword up at eye-level, parallel to the ground. He grinned. "Yes, this is how it should be. A symbolic battle between light and darkness. It's perfect."

"I do not fight the light, I only fight evil."

Joseph laughed. "You fight evil? Your realm is darkness. You have never seen the true light!"

Raifen dashed forward and slashed at Joseph. "Since when is the darkness inherently evil?"

"Since when has it not been? What has the darkness ever done to help humanity?" Joseph shouted, deflecting Raifen's blade and thrusting forward with his own.

Raifen dodged to the side and tried to punch Joseph in the throat. "It can protect humanity from the blinding, burning, destructive light!"

* * *

"You brought the Cavalry down on me, Vash? You brought humans into our duel?" Knives shouted as he dropped from the scaffolding, firing at Vash.

Vash brought up his Long Colt and fired at Knives. Knives dodged the bullet and threw himself behind some rubble, where he returned fire. Vash jumped to the left and hid behind a large stone pillar.

"Brought? They came here on there own, Knives. You can't try to destroy humanity and not expect them to have a say in the matter."

"I thought that's what I was here for?" Father Danil said. He fired at Vash from the catwalk, forcing him to hide behind the other side of the pillar.

"Incorrect Father," Wolfwood said. "You're here for the same reason that Knives is."

"That reason being?"

Wolfwood hefted his Cross Punisher and pulled the trigger, spraying bullets above Danil's head. Danil ran to the right as Wolfwood followed him, firing his Cross Punisher in three second bursts. "You're both freakin nutjobs."

* * *

Legato dropped down and put his legs up into Evans chest, rolling back and throwing the soldier behind him. There was a loud SNAP as the shoulder torture device broke off as Legato rolled to his feet.

Evans dropped his swords, curled his body into a ball, and tried to roll as he hit the catwalk. He came up kneeling on his right leg and dashed forward, trying to grab his swords. Legato stabbed downward, trying to impale Evans. Evans rolled to the side and kicked out against Legato's spear, knocking it to the side. With nothing to support his weight, Legato fell to the catwalk.

Evans dove for his swords and Legato snatched his spear. Both bounded to their feet and backed off slightly.

_C'mon, c'mon you son of a bitch. What are you going to do? Give me something. A head nod. A blink. Anything. What are you going to do?_

Legato suddenly sprung forward with a thrust to Evans chest. Evans barely managed to deflect it. It still grazed his right arm as he swung at Legato with his other sword. Legato turned the spear and deflected it with the bottom.

"Damn it, are you completely emotionless?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps I have just learned better control than you have. Not that would be especially difficult from what I've seen."

Evans chuckled. "And how much did you have to do with that, I wonder."

"Very little. I didn't force you to listen to your dead parents, though I could have. You're the only one that allows others to control you. Perhaps that's why you took a career in the military. So you could have others control you? So you wouldn't have to worry about your inability to control yourself? I've come to find that most human beings look to be controlled. They have free will, they just choose to give it away. One of their more disgusting failings."

Evans lashed out with his right saber, then at the last second turned, dodged Legato's spear, and struck him across the back. This time it was Legato that got away with a grazing cut.

Evans glanced towards the bulb for a second and wondered how Nikki was doing. "You know, you really have no right to talk about humans desiring control, ya freaking hypocrite." Evans looked out to the ground below him. _Time to take control of the situation. What was it dad said? Don't like the battle ground you're fighting on? Then don't fight on it._ He jumped back, sheathed his swords, then vaulted over the railing to the ground below.

Legato tilted his head to the side, then followed.

* * *

Johnny hit the catwalk, then flipped up and flung a small barrage of knives at Ophelia. Ophelia yanked a card from her deck, floated up from her prone position, and held it in front of her. Five pentacles peeled out from the card and floated in front of her, blocking the knives.

Johnny glanced around. "And where did our darling little sister go?"

Ophelia glanced around as well, still keeping the Five of Pentacles card held out in front of her. "No idea. She's hardly my sister anyway."

Johnny laughed mirthlessly. "Please. She may not be your blood, but she was as much your sister as she was mine."

Ophelia closed her eyes for a moment, then dropped her hand from the card, which remained floating in mid-air. She started to shuffle through her deck. "Judging by her recent reactions, I wouldn't say that she was very interested in being your sister." Her hand shot out, a card flying off into the night.

Twelve swords peeled off of the card and flew towards Johnny. They all twisted away from him and flew off in various directions. One landed in front of Johnny, who bent down, picked up the sword, and stared at Ophelia as it reshaped itself into a fan of knives. "Please," Johnny said sarcastically. He flung them at Ophelia, who remained still as they bounced off the pentacles, which shattered under the stress.

As the card burned in front of Ophelia, she looked across at Johnny. "I wonder. Was Clarissa's presence the only thing keeping us sane?"

* * *

Meryl and Millie raced down the street. The young Flock member hadn't noticed them cutting through their bonds, but he had noticed Millie sneaking up on him. As a result, Millie's punch, instead of taking him down for the count, merely slowed him down somewhat.

Meryl tried to take inventory of her weaponry as she raced next to her partner. The Flock had removed all the derringers from her cape's holsters, but they had passed over, or didn't care about, the two she kept up her sleeves. She took one out and tossed it to Millie.

"Meryl! I can't shoot this tiny thing! I mean, my hands are way to big to shoot it right!"

Meryl grunted. "You're right. Give it back to me. If I'm going to have a homicidal maniac chasing me, I'd rather have a gun in each hand."

Millie nodded and tossed the gun back to Meryl. She looked around. "Aren't we close to the office?" she asked.

Meryl took the time to actually take in her surroundings. "…Yeah, we are. Millie, please tell me you store an extra Stun Gun at the office."

Millie nodded. "Ever since you fired Robert and he came back with the shotgun and Vash tried to save you and-"

"That's enough. The point is that you have it."

A black clad figure emerged from the darkness to run alongside them. Meryl glanced to her right to see a Flock member beside them. "Who the hell are you?" she demanded.

"Wow, you don't look so good. Are you okay?"

"Uh… sort of. Listen, my name's Zarlina. I'm on your side, I swear. And yes, I realize how unconvincing that sounds, but I'm here with Raifen."

"The ninja guy?"

"The ninja guy."

"Fantastic," Meryl muttered. "We're headed for the Bernardelli complex. You're more than welcome to come with us if you want."

Millie glanced at Zarlina. "Aren't you carrying any weapons?"

"I am the weapon."

* * *

Calamity looked upwards at Johnny and Ophelia's fighting, then surveyed the city below her. The sad truth was that the Cavalry didn't stand a chance.

It didn't help that The Flock outgunned them in almost every way. It didn't help that a third of Knives' troops would get back up even if you shot them in the head, or were smaller than you average target. Or were big scary looking robot things.

"Shit shit shit. How can they pull the plug on these guys?"

Calamity stopped for a second and looked back up at Johnny. "Pull the plug? Electricity, electromagnetic… Of course!"

* * *

Martinez flew at Jeremiah, determined to knock him down before he could start firing. To his surprise, Jeremiah threw the Cross Punisher at him instead. Martinez's vampiric reflexes went into overdrive as he tried to twist away from the giant gun. He watched as the cross flew inches by his face, and immediately turned to renew his attack. Unfortunately, he turned right into Jeremiah's fist.

Martinez went flying, hit a nearby saloon wall, and collapsed in an unmoving heap. Jeremiah, still weary of the vampire, ran over to his Cross Punisher and scooped it up. He turned towards the saloon in time to see Martinez rise from the saloon porch, holding his jaw.

_CRACK_

Martinez opened and closed his mouth a few times. He winced. "Very good, Jeremiah. Very good indeed. You really are your father's son. That's exactly what Wolfwood would've done in your place. No hesitation whatsoever." He started to slowly walk down the stairs. "This might not mean much coming from an unholy creature such as myself, but I believe that you are finally ready to ring the black funeral bell.

"Are you coming on to me?"

Martinez sniggered. He suddenly jumped up to the roof. Jeremiah brought his Cross Punisher up and squeezed one of the triggers. Martinez darted around the roof, dodging Jeremiah's fire. Jeremiah suddenly stopped following Martinez's path and pulled the other trigger. Wherever these bullets hit, flames leapt up from the holes, quickly blazing a trail of fire. Martinez snarled and leapt off of the roof where he was caught in the shoulder with a bullet from Jeremiah's other barrel. He fell to the ground, clutching his shoulder. "A holy bullet?"

Jeremiah nodded. "A holy bullet."

"What happened to 'Thou shalt not kill'?"

"You're already dead, Bloodsucker. I'm just sending an old tortured soul to rest."

* * *

Another explosion ripped through the night. Johnny and Ophelia looked towards it reflexively. Calamity flipped out from under the catwalk and rushed Johnny, knocking him to the ground.

"What are you doing?" Johnny shouted as Calamity grabbed his head.

"Something only we can do, big brother! Or at least something we can only do this close to a Plant's radiation!"

"An EMP?" Johnny sputtered. Electricity arced between the siblings, and a crackling noise filled the air.

Ophelia's eyes widened. She pulled out two Major Arcana cards, the World and the Tower, and held them together in a cross. "Lord, grant us Your holy protection, seal these towers used for Thy holy works, so that the heathens may not disrupt their usage!"

* * *

Meryl, Millie, and Zarlina raced towards the door of the Bernardelli complex. Meryl reached the door first and pulled on the doors.

"God in… They're locked!"

"We could try knocking?" Zarlina suggested.

"Right, they're going to let anyone in who knocks in the middle of a battle. Standard company policy, really. Millie?"

"Yeah Meryl?"

"Break the door down."

"But… they'll take it out my pay!"

"I'll pay for the door myself, just open it!"

Millie shouldered tackled the large door, which broke off from its hinges and fell on the floor. Millie stepped over it and bent down to pick it up.

Meryl turned around. "Where did Zarlina go?" She froze for a moment, then yelled at her partner. "Millie! Get the door up!"

Meryl dived behind Millie as the larger woman brought the door in front of them like a shield, holding it by the handle. A shotgun blast rang out through the night and slammed into the large door.

Elija approached, reloading his crucifix. Zarlina struck from the shadow of the Bernardelli complex, but fire sprang up around Elija's body. Zarlina fell back, clutching her burnt hand.

"Yeah, hurts, doesn't it? You'll burn, you devil spawn. And so will the women over there, the Plant lover and her friend. You'll all burn!"

Meryl fired one of her derringers at Elija's head. Elija glanced at it casually and muttered a word in Latin. The bullet caught fire and burned up before it could come anywhere near him.

Elija shook his head. "I have God's protection, why should I fear your bullets?" He raised his shotgun and pointed it at Zarlina.

A shockwave came ripping down the street, flew over Zarlina, and slammed into Elija, knocking him into a building. His crucifix went flying away and landed a few feet away from him. Elija lifted himself, shook his head, and dived for the crucifix.

**BLAM**

The bullet slammed into the crucifix, knocking out of Elija's grasp. He looked up to a see a man standing in the street, dressed in Cavalry Officer's uniform. He held a sword in his right hand and was pointing a sidearm at Elija with the other arm.

Zarlina pushed herself up and raced over to the doorway, where Millie and Meryl stood.

"Get her some help," the man said. "I'll hold off this bastard for a while for a while."

"Who are you?" Elija spat.

"Just an old soldier, looking for one last fight before he dies."

Elija staggered to his feet and looked at the attacker. "General Braxler himself. I'm honored. To what do I owe this?"

"Not much, really. I just wanted to use that complex as a command center. And I wanted a worthwhile fight as well, I suppose."

Elija glanced towards the door to see Millie, Meryl, and Zarlina race inside. He glanced back towards his crucifix and shrugged. "Don't think that I'm helpless without my gun." He held up his hands, and balls fire formed above them. "After all, why should God's true agent hide behind the tools of man?"

* * *

Danil leapt over the railing to the ground, turned around, and started firing in Vash's direction. Vash ducked behind a pillar next to Wolfwood and returned fire.

Danil dodged Vash's bullets, only to find that Knives was firing at him as well. He dove behind a stack of spare parts crates and paused to reload his guns. He glanced up the crates and grinned. He stood up, spun around, kicked a crate towards Knives.

Knives glanced up to see the crate flying at him. He grunted and the top panels of his gun flew off.

_SCHINK!_

The crate split into two halves and continued their flight forwards, Knives standing safely between them, his left arm an Angel Blade. He held out his right arm and pulled the trigger on the gun arm, spraying bullets at the crates.

Suddenly, a blue field shot up around the tower.

Danil looked up at the field. "The world card...?" He put on his guns down, reached into his pocket, and pulled out his communicator. "Ophelia? What the hell are you doing?" A crackle of static, then a brief moment of speech. Danil fell silent, then glanced upwards.

"An EMP?"

"An EMP? But…" Knives turned his gaze upwards as well.

Wolfwood glanced towards Vash from their cover behind two pillars. "What's an EMP?"

Vash grinned slightly. "Electromagnetic Pulse. Basically causes a heart attack for all electronics in the area. The towers will stop operating, and they'll have to restart all of them before they can unleash the virus. Not only that, all those robots will be reduced to really expensive paper weights."

Danil chuckled. "Well, you're only half right. My and Knives' troops will take a hit, but the towers are just fine. What do you think that blue light is for?"

Knives laughed. "So you can do something right. Perhaps there's more to The Flock than a fanatical devotion to an invisible man in the sky."

"Vash, will the EMP affect bionics as well?"

"Er… yeah. No reason why it shouldn't."

Wolfwood grimaced. "Shit. JEREMIAH! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!"

Danil ignored Wolfwood and kicked another box at Knives, who dodged it easily. Danil set up to kick another box when he caught sight of Wolfwood's Cross Punisher flying at him. He jumped backwards as the giant gun slammed into the wall. Wolfwood rushed up, vaulted over the boxes, and tackled the old priest.

They came up and jumped backwards, Wolfwood trying not trip over his gun. He growled and rushed at Danil, rearing his arm back. His punch caught Danil square in the jaw. He flew backwards and slid to a halt near to Knives, whose arm had reverted and was caught in a firefight with his brother. Danil looked to the boxes Knives was hiding behind and spun kicked one towards Wolfwood.

Wolfwood reached quickly, catching the box as he flew towards him and throwing it to the side, when he suddenly found Danil rushing at him and jumping into a flying kick. Wolfwood dodged to the side as Danil flew past him. He grabbed a box and threw at Danil as the priest landed in the sand. Danil kicked at the box, breaking it into splinters.

"I'm always amazed at how well my cousin trained you," Danil said, rolling his neck.

"Yeah. Shame you really aren't the teacher he was."

Danil smirked. "Are you saying that the new Chapels aren't up to snuff? That's an insult to your son, you know."

Wolfwood shook his head. "I just said you aren't the teacher Chapel the Evergreen was. Any successes by the new Chapels are in spite of you, not because of it."

* * *

Blayne slid to a halt in the middle of the street. She stood up on her hind legs and wheeled around. A weapons store on one side, a bank on the other. She stopped and reminded herself that she shouldn't rely on her sight any more. She took in a deep breath through her nose and…

**Mistress! We need you! They are attacking! The strange men are attacking!**

Blayne growled. _Not now…_

**Not now, my pack! Fight on without me! I have to attend to this!**

**But… but mistress. We need you!**

**I'm sorry. But the Master comes first. The Master comes first beyond all else.**

Blayne's ears pricked up, hearing an attacker, but it was far too late. Nikki came out of nowhere and tackled the werewolf, pushing her to the ground. They rolled over a few times with Nikki coming out on top. She stabbed downward and pulled back. A dagger hilt protruded from Blayne's chest. Nikki grinned triumphantly.

Blayne smirked. **Don't feel a thing.**

Nikki grit her teeth. "But it's silver. I thought that was a werewolf's bane?"

**Normal werewolves, yes. But I am no normal werewolf. I am better. Perfect even. A perfect werewolf. No mindless berserker, no weakness to silver or wolf's bane. Perfection.**

"Perfect? And you called me unnatural. Damn hypocrite." Nikki reached into her shoulder holster, pulled out one of her Long Colts, and emptied the chambers into Blayne.

There was a loud crackling noise, and all the street lights winked out. The entire town was thrown into darkness, only the five moons providing illumination. The blue fields around the towers dropped, their sanctuary no longer needed.

**See? Now I have the advantage. You might not be able to see me, but I can still hear you.**

**BLAM!**

The gunshot reverberated in Blayne's ear as the bullet went flying away. "Not any more," Nikki said.

Blayne turned around, trying to follow the sound of Nikki's voice, but all she could hear was a faint whisper buried by the ringing of the gunshot. She lunged as she finally caught sight of the half-Plant in the dark.

* * *

Jeremiah lay in front of his father, gasping for breath. "Did I make it in time?" he asked.

"Can you see?" Wolfwood shouted back him.

"Yeah."

"Then you made it." Wolfwood said.

"Stay out of this fight, vampire," Knives said.

"Of course, sir. But I still have unfinished business with the young one."

Jeremiah's eyes started to glow again, and he grabbed his Cross Punisher and rushed out of the shadow of the tower.

Vash took aim with his Long Colt and fired.

**BLAM**

The bullet hit Knives' gun and knocked it out of his hand. Vash took the chance to rush across the gap between them and punch his brother. Knives ignored his dropped Long Colt and grabbed his brother by the leg and threw him into the wall. Knives tried to force Vash into a strangle hold, but his brother managed to get his left hand in front of Knives' face. It opened up and the machine gun rocketed out, barely missing Knives' eye as he let go of Vash to duck out of the way.

Knives looked to the side and saw his Long Colt. He reached for it and brought it up to point at Vash, who had also brought his Long Colt around.

**BLAM **

**BLAM**

The bullets met in mid-air and fused together, dropping to the ground. Both pulled the triggers on their Long Colts again, but were only rewarded with a faint _click_.

Mirror images of each other, they threw the Long Colts to the side and pounced on one another.

**

* * *

**

Meryl and Millie helped Zarlina into the main offices and laid her down on the couch. Meryl looked around for a doctor, finally finding one in a corner bandaging up a . She dragged him over to Zarlina. She pointed at the girl on the couch clutching her burnt hand.

"Watch her, alright?"

Millie and Meryl started to run off when Meryl stopped short, turned around, and said, "Wear gloves. That's really important."

The doctor raised his eyebrows. "I know what I'm doing," he said as he pulled on a pair of rubber gloves.

"Actually, it's probably more for your safety then for hers," Millie added. "You should probably roll down your sleeves as well."

The pair rushed off up the stairs to their offices.

* * *

Darkness flooded the city streets. Then, a flash of light. Joseph stood in the middle, light all around him, flowing from his eyes, his ears, his mouth. He turned growled and looked around.

"Ya know, that makes you a _really_ good target."

The shockwave came roaring down the street, straight at Joseph. Joseph grunted and slashed upwards with his sword. The wave passed around him, leaving him unharmed.

Evans lunged out at him from the darkness, blades in both hands. Joseph stepped back, blocking both blades with his long sword. Evans stepped back, turned around, and threw up one of his sabers. It ricocheted off Legato's spear as the blue-haired man lunged from the darkness. Evans held both men at bay for a second, then rolled out of the way. Legato and Joseph lunged towards each other and started fighting, neither gaining any real ground.

Joseph smirked. "Ah, Knives' pet human. Tell me, why am I not pulling my own heart out yet?"

Legato raised an eyebrow. "And tell me, Brother Joseph, why should you be privy to that information? You haven't even reached priesthood. You're a simple monk."

"Head of the brethren, Legato. The first among equals."

Evans slipped back into the darkness. "Raifen?" he whispered.

"Right behind you," the ninja's voice said from over his shoulder.

"How long before they realize that we could attack them?"

"About three seconds."

"In that case, which one do you want?"

There was silence for a half a second, then, "Light."

Evans nodded, then raised his right saber to block Legato's spear. "All yours."

* * *

Johnny, Ophelia, and Calamity all lay side-by-side on the catwalk, panting for breath. The EMP and the shielding had taken way too much out of all of them.

"What was the point of that, little Calamity?" Johnny asked. "Surely you must have known that someone would've had a failsafe against that?"

"The point? The point was to decimate your armies. The lasers are defunct, the robots are broken, and everyone with bionics, which if what Jeremiah tells me is true is most of the Flock, is now either missing a limb or is completely blind. Do you really think it'll be that hard for the Cavalry to overthrow you guys?"

"It won't matter," Ophelia said. "The Father will kill Knives, Vash, and Wolfwood, and activate the Teraformer. We may be dead, but God's will, will be carried out."

Johnny laughed. "Please. You only say that because you haven't seen what Knives is capable of. He really is above all of us. We're nothing but vermin, or rather tools to be used in his plans. Soon, we'll be dying a painful death at the hands of the disease he made out of the nano-machines in my body."

"Johnny, Johnny, Johnny. Still not seeing it. Danil will win. He will play Vash, Wolfwood, and Knives against each other, walk away, and set off the virus. We'll still be standing here when all the Plants wink out of existence. At least until the Cavalry mop us up."

Calamity summoned up all her energy and pushed herself up off the catwalk. She walked slowly to the stairs and turned to face Johnny and Ophelia. Calamity looked at them and opened her mouth as if to say something, then turned around and waved her hand dismissively. "Fuck it. I'm done mourning for you."

As she started to move down the stairs, a knife formed in Johnny's hand. Ophelia reached into her deck, removed a card and closed her eyes. The card started glowing as she sent the energy into it. The two reared their hands back to toss them at Calamity when she calmly activated her last radio detonator. The explosion rocked the tower, throwing off Johnny and Ophelia's aim. The card and the knife both went flying off to the left. Calamity shook her head and slowly descended the staircase.

Johnny tried to push himself up to follow, but he didn't have the strength. He looked over at Ophelia, who was shivering. "What's up with you?"

Ophelia's voice remained silent as she slowly pointed to the console right in front of the Plant bulb. Somehow, Johnny's wild knife throw had managed to skewer the card to the console. While the knife obscured most of the picture, it was an unmistakable sight. A skeleton on a horse, a great scythe in one hand. One word was written across the bottom of the card. Death.

Almost painfully slowly, the skeleton began to peel from the card. As it stepped out into reality, the surrounding blackness swirled around it, forming a cloak. The scythe glinted in the light, winking at the pair.

Johnny laughed nervously. "Ahhhhh, that card. Right." He started to shake as well.

Ophelia glanced at him. "What are you afraid of? Surely you knew you were going to die? That was Knives' plan after all."

Johnny nodded. "Yeah… but there's a big difference between abstractly knowing you're going to die and actually looking the Grim Reaper in the face."

Ophelia nodded. She seemed to have finally lost her voice, because she didn't reply in return. Tears slowly ran down her face, and a low moan came from her mouth, her first real sound in years. Johnny reached over, grabbed her hand, and squeezed it tightly. He grinned and chuckled slightly.

"Never thought I'd go like this."

And Death approached and swung his terrible scythe.

* * *

Joseph bull rushed Raifen into the wall and hit him with the hilt of his long sword. Even since he had split up from Evans, the ninja had been doing much worse than he had expected. He thought that he would've had the advantaged in the dark, but Joseph's light always seemed to find him. Raifen was convinced that the light shining out of his eyes really did allow him to see in the dark.

His thoughts were cut off as Joseph grabbed his sword hand and twisted the katana away. He grabbed Raifen by his throat with his other hand and held him against the wall. Despite the numerous cuts, the crazy monk was still smiling insanely. He dropped Raifen's sword hand and put it up against Raifen's eyes.

"You've walked too long in darkness, man of shadow. Some say that you can never walk in the shadow for so long that you cannot walk in the light again, but I don't believe it. Walk too long in the shadow for too long, and your eyes grow accustomed to the darkness. When you return to the light, it's too much for you. You cannot return to the blinding splendor of the true light, so you run, like a coward, back to your shadow. Always hiding in the shadow."

"Tell me, what is so evil about shadow?" Raifen asked. "Whoever said that darkness was evil?"

Joseph sneered. "The good Lord. His light is beautiful, or haven't you read the Bible?"

Raifen nodded. "Ah yes, of course. Because you've been adhering so closely to his words. You know, thou shalt not kill, love thy neighbor, etcetera. Tell me, what are you doing to do after this is over? Kill, rape, and pillage every other city on the planet, because they are not the chosen sheep of the Lord? Because that seems to be the direction you're going on this one."

"Shut up!" Joseph yelled. Light blasted from his hand into Raifen's eyes. Burning, searing, blinding light. Raifen bit his lip and tried not to scream as his eyes were burnt out by Joseph. Finally, after what seemed like a year of torture, Joseph pulled his hand away. He leaned in close to Raifen, who whimpered slightly. "What do you see now, man of shadow?"

"All… all I see is darkness," Raifen said. He flicked his wrist slightly, and a knife slid down out of his sleeve into his palm. "But I still see more than you!" He jabbed upward with the knife up between Joseph's ribs. Joseph looked down at the protruding hilt, looked back up at Raifen, then slowly slid to the ground as the light finally faded from him.

Raifen shook off Joseph's hand, reached into a pocket, and pulled out a spare blindfold. Tying it around his eyes, he picked up his katana, cleaned it on Joseph's multi-colored coat, and ran off into the night.

* * *

"Sir!"

"Yes private?"

"It's the wolves!"

"What about them?"

"They're retreating!"

"What?"

"I'm serious sir. They're all bugging out!"

* * *

General Braxler rolled his neck slightly and tossed away his side arm. "Now what, sir? Are you going to go for that gun of yours?"

Elija glanced towards his crucifix. His magical reserves were starting to run low, any more than one fire ball and he wouldn't be able to keep up the fire shield. He looked up back at General Braxler and grinned slightly. More refugees were traveling up the street behind him, hoping to find sanctuary in the Bernardelli building. He held out his hand and spoke the chant. The fire ball appeared in his hand and he flung it off to General Braxler's left.

Braxler glanced towards his left, then turned around to see the refugees behind him. He swung his sword and sent a shockwave into the fireball, canceling it out.

While he was doing this, Elija dove for his crucifix, grabbed it, came up, and fired at General Braxler. General Braxler had enough time to bring up his sword to block some of the shot, but most if hit him, knocking him back to the ground.

Elija started laughing. "The great hero, General Braxler himself. In the end, still not worthy of God." Elija approached the General, keeping his shotgun trained on him. "But don't feel too bad, no one really is worthy." He reached the General, pulled back the pump on his shotgun, and aimed it his head. "Any last requests?"

General Braxler painfully reached into his vest and pulled out a cigar, already cut. "Last smoke?"

Elija smirked. "Fair enough. Here." He snapped his fingers and the tip started to glow.

General Braxler nodded. "Thanks." He puffed on the cigar a few times, then started to chuckle.

"What's so funny, old man?"

"You may not realize this, but I'm already dying. You hit me in some pretty vital organs, I'm actually kind of amazed you didn't get my heart. Doesn't matter really. I'll be dead within a minute or so."

Elija's eyes narrowed. "I fail to see why this is amusing."

General Braxler took one last puff, then snubbed the cigar out in the sand. "I'm a soldier. And I always said that if I died like a soldier, in a battle, I wanted to take my opponent with me. I'm just happy that I got to die the way I wanted to." He smiled, then slowly closed his eyes.

Elija snorted. "Fool. You're not bringing anyone with you." He started to reload his shotgun as he looked up to the refugees. "You aren't even going to save anyone with your death."

**BLAM**

**  
BLAM**

**BLAM **

**BLAM**

Four bullets flew at Elija, only to burn up half a foot from him. He glanced up and to the right to see Meryl firing her derringers at him from a second story window in the Bernardelli Complex. She turned, threw down her derringers, picked up two new ones, and continued firing.

Elija tried to ignore the bullets as they burned up inches from his face, but he kept slipping as he tried to reload the crucifix. He knew why as well. He was almost out of mana. Every bullet that hit the flame shield was sapping away at his reserves. They were taking longer and longer to burn up. Finally, he managed to ram the shells into the shotgun, but before he could close the gun, a bullet broke through the flame shield and flew over his shoulder.

"Now Millie!"

The other door of the Bernardelli Complex burst open, Millie Thompson standing behind it, stun-gun aimed firmly at Elija.

**Ka-chunk**

The stun-gun bolt hit Elija in the chest, knocking him a good thirty feet down the street into a crosswalk.

And right into Colonel Winchester's sights.

She took aim at the lone figure, and squeezed the trigger.

**BLAM**

* * *

Nikki dodged Blayne's claws and looked desperately for some room where she could fire her guns. Destroying Blayne's hearing had worked perfectly, until Blayne started using her sense of smell to track her down. Nikki, however, was still fighting blind without the illuminating street lights. She couldn't see the werewolf until she was right on top of her, and that was the distance Blayne had the greatest advantage at.

Nikki lashed out with the butt of her gun and connected with Blayne's muzzle, but it didn't really faze her that much, which wasn't too surprising considering that she had already taken the bullet wounds Nikki had given her pretty well.

If Blayne could have smiled, she'd be showing a rare grin now. Her Pack's whining had distracted her somewhat, but now it was all over. Only the Master mattered. Only the Master was essential. Only his orders were absolute.

**You betrayed us.**

Blayne growled.

**You betrayed the pack.**

She turned away from Nikki and peered out into the darkness.

**We saved you from them. You betrayed us.**

Blayne bared her teeth. **That was long ago. I must obey my Master now. He is superior to you. All of you.**

**Punishment.**

A wolf flew out of the darkness and latched on to Blayne's arm. Another came, and another, and another. Soon, Blayne was borne down with an entire pack of wolves. They dragged her, kicking, scratching, biting, into the blackness.

Nikki stared into the shadows and grunted. "A real mother never abandons her children." She staggered to her feet, picked up her guitar from where it had fallen, and ran off towards the tower Knives had been heading to.

* * *

Evans blocked Legato's thrust and slid backwards. _Damn. This guy takes no risks, has no expressions, gives away no moves, doesn't even break a damn sweat. Is he for real?_

"Why aren't you using your Demon's Eye, son of Rai-Dei? Surely with such a power you could easily defeat me. After all, I'm helpless against now that you've blocked me out."

Evans grit his teeth and slashed at Legato, who blocked the saber easily. "Or is it that you can't use it as long as you're blocking my power? And you know that without that eye to help you, all you can rely on are is your out of control swordsmanship?"

Evans grinned, he started sidestepping. Legato followed him. They circled each other, waiting for one to make the first move.

"You know what the thing is about out-of-control people?" Evans asked, still grinning.

"Enlighten me."

"They tend to be difficult to predict. And they tend to take really stupid risks."

He suddenly kicked upwards against Legato's spear, throwing Legato back slightly as his spear was forced up against his head. Evans dashed forward, threw down the saber in his left hand, grabbed the right handed saber in both hands, and slashed upwards.

Legato's spear clattered to the street as he dropped to the ground, clutching the spot where his left arm used to be. His breathing came in short gasps, but he still managed to keep his face impassionate.

"As I recall," Evans said, pointing at what was Legato's left arm, "That's not your property. And I've been informed by the owner of said arm that without it, your powers are only really good for long distance communications. You aren't the devil you once were, Legato. You're useless. A simple, normal, human.

Legato stared at his arm. "I failed him." His voiced trembled slightly. "I failed him." His mouth ticked downwards in a grimace, if only for a moment.

Evans shrugged. "It happens." He stretched out his hand towards Legato. "C'mon. Let's get you to some help."

Legato turned to Evans and shook his head. "You don't understand. I failed the Master." Suddenly he reached into Evans holster with his remaining hand, pulled out the gun, and put it under his chin.

**BLAM**

He slumped backwards, dead at his own desire. But this time, no smile crossed his face.

Evans stared down at Legato's corpse, not sure what to make of the bizarre scene. He shook his head and picked up his other sword. "Nikki," he muttered. He shook his head. "Nah, she's fine. Hell, she'd probably get really pissed at me if I tried to help her."

* * *

Jeremiah struggled to his feet and shook his head. He glanced around to see where Martinez had thrown him. Unfortunately, his Cross Punisher lay ten feet away from him. Martinez, on the other hand, was twenty feet away. However, Martinez could cover the distance to Jeremiah way before Jeremiah could even start to go for his gun.

"Time to die. Don't worry, it's not as bad an experience as most people think it is."

"Probably not. Still, I'd like to avoid it for as long as I can."

"I'm sorry Jeremiah, but you don't get that choice. Your time is up." Martinez said.

**BLAM **

**BLAM **

**BLAM**

**BLAM**

Martinez was knocked over as the bullets from Nikki's Long Colts slammed into his body. He rolled around on the ground and slowly picked himself up. "Like I keep telling you, that really freaking hurts!"

Jeremiah quickly pulled his switchblade from his pocket and flicked it open. He held out the two fingers of his left hand and sketched a cross over the blade. "If there ever was a time for true belief it's now," he muttered.

Nikki emptied the rest of bullets into Martinez, then ducked behind a pillar. Martinez grinned hungrily. "You have no idea," he said, "how sweet your blood is. The virus will probably kill me along with you. I'd like my last meal to be a good one." He bared his fangs, then looked over to see Jeremiah eyeing his Cross Punisher.

"Tsk tsk tsk. Look at me. I must be going senile in my old age. Always concentrate on the real threat."

_What was it Evans said?_ Jeremiah thought. _Sometimes you have to be like water?_

Martinez rushed at Jeremiah, who grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back into a throw, jabbing the knife into him as he fell backwards, throwing the vampire behind him.

Martinez hit the wall, slid to the ground, stood up, and brushed himself off. He looked down at the knife and looked back up again at Jeremiah. "Was this supposed to do anything? I'm actually pretty fond of this coat, you know."

Jeremiah grinned. "Did I mention that I was recently ordained?"

Martinez looked down at the knife again, then grimaced in pain. He pulled out his pocket watch, flipped it open, and stared at the face. "But… no. It's not my time yet. It's not my time yet!"

He started screaming, an unearthly scream heard around the entire city. All the ghouls, regardless of whether they were raised by Julius the Necromancer or the vampire himself, stopped what they were doing and looked towards the scream, unable to turn away from the vampire's call.

Martinez fell to his knees, clutching his head, pain ripping through his entire body. He looked up to see Jeremiah's Cross Punisher pointing at him.

"Rest in peace," Jeremiah said. "And may God have mercy on your poor, tired, tortured soul." He squeezed the trigger, and the Cross spat blessed fire.

Jeremiah turned away from the pile of ash and looked towards Nikki, who stepped out of hiding. "I suppose we better go after our fathers," Jeremiah said.

Nikki nodded. "They really can't do anything right on their own, can they?"

Jeremiah grinned. "Not if what your mother says is true."

The raced off towards the final Plant.

The watch lay open in the pile of dust that was once Neron Martinez the Bloodsucker. The face of the watch quietly moved on, continuing to show the time for any who wanted to know. On the inside cover of the pocket watch, however, a faded note lay. A reminder to someone what their purpose should always be. A single word. "Chaos."

* * *

Danil threw Wolfwood off of him and rummaged around for his cross pistols, which had dropped during his scuffle with Wolfwood. He grabbed them, sprang up, and pointed it where he thought Knives was.

He saw Knives standing there, pointing his gun arm at him as well. Vash lay below him, his bionic arm hanging on by a few wires. He was scavenging around for one of the Long Colts, which were lying and a pile of broken boxes.

Danil and Knives stared at each, grinned, and aimed at their heads. Danil's eyes suddenly caught a figure moving behind Knives. A figure with a guitar neck sticking out over its shoulder. "The abomination…" Danil muttered. He shifted his aim slightly.

Knives' eyes narrowed as he say Jeremiah come up behind Danil. He smiled and moved his gun slightly to point at Jeremiah. _He killed Martinez. The only other worthwhile being around. He deserved a better death than that._

**BLAM**

**BLAM**

Knives and Danil were among the fastest people walking on Gunsmoke. Their only competition for the titles of fastest human and fastest non-human were lying at their feet scrambling to their guns. Before the bullets had flown halfway towards their targets, both had enough time to look behind them, see who had been shot at, and move in front of the bullet's path. Without hesitation.

Knives took the shot in the shoulder, the bullet lodging firmly in his arm, but leaving it still on. Danil had taken his bullet in the forearm, the bullet also embedded there. Both men held their hand over their bullet wounds, trying to staunch the bleeding.

Danil stared at Knives. "And here I was thinking that you were too wrapped up in your superiority to actually learn to take a bullet."

Knives turned his gaze from Jeremiah back towards Danil. "I was. But apparently my skill, my power, my abilities weren't enough. My brother? He took all the pain I threw his way and kept staggering towards me, still preaching his message. I had to learn that. I had to learn that determination." he said, opening and closing his right hand. "I couldn't let him beat me again."

Knives and Danil stared at each other for a moment, and no one moved. Nikki and Jeremiah stared at each other, flabbergasted that either Knives or Danil would catch a bullet for them. Wolfwood and Vash froze for a second, then continued to search for their guns. Before they could find them, Danil and Knives shot off into the Plant.

Wolfwood and Vash abandoned their search and ran in after them, Nikki and Jeremiah close behind.

Knives and Danil raced through the hall, each trying to get to the control room first. Danil shoved Knives into the wall, where he hit his hurt shoulder. Knives flinched in pain then put on an extra burst of speed. He kicked out against Danil's leg, sending the man to the floor. He sprinted into the control room and was about to reach the control panel when Danil suddenly tackled him from behind. They rolled around the ground, punching, kicking, hitting wounds. Suddenly Dainl fell back and started coughing, finally hacking up a little blood. Knives grinned, then lunged at the control panel.

He didn't even make it a foot before he collapsed on the ground, twitching.

Vash and Wolfwood raced down the hallway and burst into the room, training their guns on the two men lying on the floor.

Danil shrugged. "Apparently we both had the same idea, treating our bullets with the virus."

Wolfwood approached Danil and kneeled down. "Yeah, pair of geniuses, you two."

Danil grinned slightly. "Did I ever tell you that you look a lot like your mother?"

Wolfwood leaned in and stared at Danil. "What, you knew my mother?"

Danil nodded. "Oh yes, she was very beautiful. After her… no woman could compare. So when I decided to take a vow of celibacy, which I noticed neither you or your son have followed, it wasn't really that much of a sacrifice."

Knives slowly turned around until he was lying on his back. "Why? Why did I do that Vash? It doesn't make any sense. Why would I save that pathetic freak?"

Vash shrugged. "Maybe you finally understand, Knives."

Knives spat blood at him, anger in his eyes. "Understand what? Are you telling me that I actually understand your… You? What do _you_ want?" Knives was staring at a point above Vash's head.

"Is that… an angel?" Danil asked, staring at the same place.

Knives laughed mirthlessly. "Far from it."

Danil looked quizzically up at the blank space. "What? What are you saying?"

Comprehension flashed across Knives' face. "Oh. Is that how it works? Really?"

Danil's eyes slowly started to close as he sank towards the floor. "We're sorry, we just didn't… we just didn't…"

Knives laid his head back on the floor and closed his eyes. "We just didn't understand."

* * *

December City is named for the weather patterns around it. It is, and remains, the only populated place on Gunsmoke where it is possible for snow to fall. It's a very rare occasion, the joke among the natives is that it only happens once every twenty years. On some particularly cold nights, though, snow will begin to fall on the city.

The snowflakes drifted down on the city, a blanket of white snow. A promise of a clean, white slate by the morning.


	26. Epilogue

I do not own Trigun, nor the characters.

_

* * *

_

_Three weeks later_

One of Lelia Harker's hobbies was photography. She often wandered around town on her off hours with a camera, snapping photographs of anything that struck her fancy. As the family shutterbug, she drove them up the wall insisting that they take a photo documenting every occasion.

She sat in a small hotel room, dressed entirely in black, sorting through these pictures on a desk. Her graduation from medical school, Evans' commissioning as an officer, a picture of her mother's grave after the funeral- she had a family's history laid out on the hotel room desk.

The door opened slightly and Evans, in full dress uniform, stepped into the room.

"It's time to go," he said.

* * *

Nikki shifted her weight slightly and glanced across the coffin at her father. _Isn't the idea that all the pallbearers be the same height?_ She wondered. Her face fell as guilts washed over her. After all, the man in the coffin had taken a bullet for her.

She glanced back behind her and was, for what was probably the hundredth time that day, simply awed by the sheer number of coffins in the procession. An endless line of mourning black and uniform gray stretched back into the ruined town for miles. All of them carried coffins, carried the dead to their home.

* * *

Just outside of December City, a giant graveyard had been dug. Row on row, shallow pits covered the outskirts of the town. Each place marked for a specific recipient.

It didn't matter on what side they fought, if they fought willingly or not. If they fought that night and died in their effort, their final resting place was here.

The mourners, the pallbearers, the priests, the soldiers, the politicians, the bandits, all of them stood in front of the graveyard in silence. Only the gravediggers moved, scooping up the earth and tucking the dead in for their final sleep.

As they finished their work and stood back to wipe their brows, figures detached themselves from the crowd, carrying gifts for the departed. A sword and some flowers for a father and a soldier. A pair of guns for a brother and an uncle. A rosary and a bible for a father, grandfather, and teacher. A knife and a tarot card deck for two who were once brother and sister. Gifts for strangers, gifts for enemies.

* * *

Vash stood aside from the milling throng, staring out over the graves, his arm around Meryl.

"Penny for your thoughts, needle noggin."

Vash and Meryl glanced over to see Wolfwood and Millie walking up to them.

Vash shrugged. "I dunno. I was just thinking that maybe you were right all along. That you can't save everyone. That you have to kill or be killed. Eden? Eden is just some dream."

Meryl held his hand and looked out over the graveyard. "It shouldn't be that way. You shouldn't have to choose between saving one person's life and saving twenty others. If it's a dream, can't we make it real?"

Vash grinned ruefully. "Yeah, that'd be great. But, despite how I look, I'm running out of time here."

"They have time," Millie said, pointing towards the crowd.

Vash, Wolfwood, and Meryl followed Millie's finger.

Calamity, Nikki, Jeremiah, and Evans stood together with Lelia and Roger, looking over a photo album. Raifen hobbled up behind them, Zarlina following, still nursing a heavily bandaged arm.

They flipped through the photo album, looking over the past.

Vash, Meryl, Wolfwood, and Millie stood near the mass graveyard in the ruined city, looking at the future.

_

* * *

_

_Two years later_

"Mmm, a nice big rededication ceremony for December City. I'm sure that it's an entire coincidence that this is also an election year. Nah, I'm sure this isn't just part of some devious public relations scheme."

"When did you become Captain Cynicism?"

"About six months ago," Evans said, putting his arm around Nikki's shoulders. "Don't you remember? I came home one day and was really excited about something? There was a nice ceremony for it. You were really annoyed because the insignia on my uniform had to be changed."

Nikki smirked and opened the box of doughnuts resting in her lap. Evans reached over for one when Nikki smacked his hand away.

Evans grinned. "I thought you loved me."

"I do. Just not enough to share my doughnuts."

Evans shrugged and removed his arm from her shoulders. He reached into his vest pocket, pulled out his cigar case, selected a cigar, and lit it.

Nikki wrinkled her nose. "You know I really don't like that."

Evans puffed on the cigar and put his arm back around Nikki's shoulders. "Sorry, honey. I love you more than life itself, but not enough to give up cigars."

Nikki grinned and kissed Evans impishly on the cheek.

"Hey, doughnuts, can I have one?"

Nikki pulled out a doughnut. "Get your own box, dad," she said. She stuffed the doughnut her mouth.

"He did," Meryl said, coming up behind her husband. "Polished it off within fifteen seconds."

Vash scratched the back of his head. "Yeah… I guess I'm slowing down in my old age." He sat down on the bench next to the one Evans and Nikki were sharing. Meryl sat next to him, reached over and grabbed a doughnut from the box.

Evans glanced at her. "Why does she get one?"

"'Cause she's my mother."

"Is that how it works?"

Vash nodded. "That's how it works."

Evans raised his eyebrows and continued to puff on his cigar.

The faint sound of arguing could be heard wafting down the street.

"Are Jeremiah and Calamity trying to argue again?" Nikki asked.

"What are they arguing about?" Meryl asked.

"Sounds like something to do with cotton candy," Vash responded.

"Hmmm, okay, I'll take a guess," Nikki said. "Jeremiah bought the cotton candy, and Calamity's eating most of it. Jeremiah wants some. Calamity pulls the pregnancy card. Jeremiah pulls the fact that he bought it. Calamity says that she's eating for two now. Jeremiah says that she's barely a month along, how much could the second one really need? While this is happening, Nick is trying his hardest not to snicker at them, while Millie wonders what Nick thinks is so funny."

A shadow appeared between the benches. "Exactly right."

Evans and Nikki jumped, fell backwards over the bench, and landed in the bushes behind them. Evans picked himself up and then helped Nikki. "You know," he said, "I liked you better before I found out that you had such a mean sense of humor."

"He didn't always have it," Zarlina said. She sat down on a picnic table and clasped her hands, only one of which was gloved. "It's kind of sprung up lately. It's getting to the point where I can't try any food he gives me if he won't tell me what's in it."

"Yeah, I do the same thing with Evans."

"Hey, I'm a good cook."

"Sure. It's just that you tend to serve lizards."

"Never trust anyone who's been trained to cook by the Cavalry, Nikki, you'll live a lot longer."

Evans waved. "Hi Winnie."

Winchester stood over him. " 'Hi Winnie'? Don't you mean, 'Greetings sir?', Captain?"

Evans grinned mischeviously.

Winchester shook her head, then looked up towards the approaching figures. "Hey, Nicholas!"

Wolfwood nodded. "Yeah?"

"Why are my kids telling me that their Uncle Wolfwood taught them this really cool way to make an incredibly obnoxious noise using only a pair of bottles, a piece of scrap iron, a hammer and a little elbow grease?"

Wolfwood smiled and looked innocent. "I have no idea. Why are you asking me, I'm hardly their only Uncle Wolfwood."

Jeremiah stared at his father. "Right, dad. Because I'm the one in this family who is the expert child raiser who knows a hundred and one ways to annoy adults."

"The children at the orphanage exaggerate my abilities. I only knew seventy-eight. But man, did number fifty-three drive the nuns up the wall!"

Jeremiah and Calamity sat next to Zarlina on the picnic table. Calamity looked at Nikki's doughnut box, which she had recovered and now rested on her lap again. "I suppose it would be a complete waste of time to even ask," she said.

"You suppose correctly," Nikki responded.

"Not even if I bring up-"

"Not even if you bring up that. Didn't work on Jeremiah when he wanted his cotton candy, why should it work on me?"

Calamity sighed. "Worth a shot."

"Who are we waiting for?" Millie asked.

"My sister," Evans responded.

"She's coming up right now," Raifen said.

Evans looked up at him. "How can you tell? You're not even looking in the direction of the… Oh. Right." He turned around and looked towards the festival entrance. Lelia and Roger were walking down the road. Lelia had something over her shoulder that bounced against her hip with every step.

"Oh God," Evans said. "Not the damn camera."

"Yes," Lelia said as she reached them. She unpacked a tripod and set it up in front of the benches, pointing at the picnic table. "The damn camera." She motioned everyone to the picnic benches. "Come on, get in the frame, get in the frame!"

They grudgingly complied, as a person with camera's orders, no matter how inane, are always obeyed.

"Alright, everyone smile! We don't have a group shot, and damn it, we need one."

"You mean _you_ need one."

"Whatever." Lelia set the timer and ran towards the picnic table to sit next to Roger.

"Smile everyone!"

"What's there to smile about?" Meryl asked.

"The future," Vash responded.

_Click._

* * *

Before I leave, I would like to give a special thank you to my three betas, skippingstones, MTS, and Athenamaxwell. Thank you, all three of you, for putting up with my ludicrous typos and jumping on you the moment you got online going "Have you read the chapter yet?"


End file.
